


Stay Focused

by jentaro



Series: eskel gets pegged cinematic universe or EGPCU for short [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Author is NB, Cockwarming, Cuddling, Cunnilingus, Drugs, Fluff, M/M, Nonbinary Jaskier | Dandelion, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Panic Attacks, Pegging, Soulmates AU, Tags to be added, Temperature Play, Trans Jaskier | Dandelion, Vaginal Fingering, all my tags be out of order smh, and i love that for them, anyway back at it again with the jaskel content, cannot believe they're this gay, eskel smokes weed because fuck the police, i have crimes i'm gonna answer for in future chapters, jaskier just rly wants to paint eskel's nails so bad and also fuck him to tears, knotting (but it's just a monster dildo), like really fucking gay, male wife eskel, muffing, ruined orgasm, the lads are gay at the farmer's market, trans to catgirl pipeline, uhhhhhhh these lads are fucking gay, valdo marx eat shit challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:00:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 41,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27664388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jentaro/pseuds/jentaro
Summary: An afternoon snack is brought in by his favorite snacc while Jaskier is grading the worst essays he's ever seen in his life, he has no choice but to reward his good boy.
Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: eskel gets pegged cinematic universe or EGPCU for short [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018765
Comments: 105
Kudos: 155





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> here's the first chapter of my first planned sequel to Relocation!! this resides in the EGPCU (eskel gets pegged cinematic universe), and yes i am implying that there is a second sequel already planned **:^)**
> 
> thanks to everyone in many discord servers for the moral support for this one because ngl i felt like mashed potatoes for the past month while writing this. but this bit is done! and i am going to be so severely on my jaskel bullshit for the next parts so uhhhh enjoy that

Eskel’s routine used to be simple. Not necessarily monotonous or measured down to the second, but it didn't vary too much. Wake up, maybe rub one out once in a while when sleep didn't claim him for another half an hour before the alarm actually goes off. Breakfast, firing up the forge to work on commission work or doing whatever else had to be done. It works to make his schedule flexible for whatever comes up in his life and with his family, which turns out to be quite a lot and is usually something absolutely chaotic—as if he is absolved of his own chaos crimes, far from innocent about causing a stir.

Eskel had told Lambert about his airport rendezvous with a stranger that turned into the most wild fuck of his life. For the sake of his own sanity, he left out the part where Jaskier pegged him and everything that was said after he rawed him in an airport bathroom, but otherwise had given his brother the full rundown. Lambert had been especially delighted to hear about how Jaskier obliterated his colleague in cold blood every time they ran into him. Eskel had also told him he left with his number, and that he actually feels good about this for once; Lambert swore not to tell anyone else yet, and at least it is a comfort to Eskel knowing he'd keep his word, he always does. 

Jaskier came along and changed his routine in so many ways though. It's not all floaty feelings, sometimes his thoughts are weird and anxiety inducing on his weak mornings, wondering when Jaskier will get tired of him. His family is there for him, but it's not the same as someone sticking around _with_ him though. He doesn't have the best track record when it comes to people he’s into staying with him, and he'd _really_ rather not think about how his last long term relationship ended.

On mornings like this though, where he can remember the feeling of waking up with Jaskier in his arms, the change in his routine is exhilarating. Eskel had woken up just before dawn two weekends ago when Jaskier had stayed the night at his place, before the sun rose above the trees and the morning light came in through the blinds. Jaskier had been laying half on his chest, arm over his stomach, looking soft and perfect. Watching him sleep, waiting for him to wake up so he didn't disturb him, seeing Jaskier smile when he opened his eyes finally… 

This is scary to relax into, the feeling of being safe with somebody, but the dusty cobwebs around his heart are being brushed away gradually. …Okay, maybe that's a _little_ dramatic even for himself, but Jaskier has been a reason to smile almost every single day. In the almost two months since they met, they've gone on a couple of _really_ nice dates. All low stress, nothing too fancy, and always fun.

Jaskier had taken him to dinner at some hole in the wall pub that apparently served the best basket of fries in the world—honestly, Eskel would have _never_ thought fries sprinkled with rosemary sugar would be so good, but he has definitely been converted. Point being, Jaskier had made Eskel pull off the road to ride him in the passenger seat of his truck, after which he'd been politely informed of Jaskier’s cum kink. Incidentally, that led to Eskel digging out his paperwork from at least three different doctors who had concluded him functionally sterile; something about deformed sperm production rendering his chances of having children so low that it might as well be non-existent. 

The great sex they’ve been having aside, just getting to see Jaskier though is a treat in itself. Sometimes he's so busy with his lecture planning that the most Eskel gets is a goodnight text, and that's fine for him, gives him time during the day to sort himself out. Other times, Jaskier texts him sparingly through the day, but is also understanding that Eskel doesn't have time when he's absorbed in his work to answer. It’s been working out well for the both of them, he never feels neglected, and Jaskier is always understanding when Eskel sends out an apology for being M.I.A..

Usually he wakes up now to Jaskier’s absolutely nonsensical and incredibly endearing stream of consciousness thoughts from the night before, or if not, Eskel will send a good morning text and get a bunch of emojis back. The giddiness of a new relationship is a little terrifying, but the first thing he does each day when he wakes up now is miss Jaskier, _that's_ something. So _what_ if he keeps trying to find reasons to head into the town around Oxenfurt so that he can drop by and see Jaskier at the university. 

Which is why he's standing in line at a coffee shop looking at his notes app on his phone trying to find where he'd written down Jaskier’s tea order that he _almost_ has memorized, but not quite. It’s not too complicated or anything like that, but it _is_ a very specific blend of two teas. Three quarters of a ball of loose elderflower oolong with one quarter hibiscus tea for a punch of flavor that blends in very well as long as the mix is _just_ right to not overpower the delicate elderflower—Jaskier’s words, not his. No sweetener, half ice, and paired with a pumpkin cinnamon muffin. 

They had agreed to dinner somewhere around or before six in the evening, but Eskel is well aware of the painful nature of Jaskier’s grading of first-year course essays. He'd already let him know upfront that today is for finishing grading, and then tomorrow morning he'd have to spend it inputting the grades into the course website so students can get their marks, otherwise Jaskier will be spending his three day weekend at Eskel’s place. But maybe Eskel wants to see him sooner, what of it?

With his own coffee and Jaskier’s tea in a tray, the muffin securely in a bag clenched in his other hand, Eskel makes the walk across the university campus. The history building is a little bit dilapidated, in sore need of renovations, but otherwise it's a perfectly comfortable structure. Students are mulling about studying for exams between afternoon classes, though a couple of them look up as he passes them from the study space in the front while heading to the stairs. Jaskier’s office is on the third floor of the building, tucked in the corner that gets the best sunlight in the afternoons. It’s quicker to take the stairs than the ancient elevator that sounds like it's one thin thread away from the cable snapping, though he has a mishap with almost tripping over a disturbed looking Valdo Marx. He’d taken one glance at Eskel and fumbled, dropping his phone and diving to catch it, almost taking Eskel down in the process if he hadn't moved back a couple steps on the landing.

Otherwise, he’s unscathed, feeling a little bit uncertain as he stands outside the door. Which is a _dumb_ thing to debate with himself since he's already _here_ ; there is still that quiet part that says Jaskier won't want him there. But that part of himself is fucking stupid, so Eskel knocks on the door, waiting until he hears Jaskier’s voice beckon him inside. 

The second recognition sets in and Jaskier smiles, Eskel’s heart skips a beat. Again when Jaskier stands up and almost trips over the corner of his desk while he comes around it. “If that’s what I think it is, I’m gonna kiss you.” Jaskier takes the clear cup of iced tea from the tray and the bag from Eskel, placing it on his desk.

“I hope it is,” is all Eskel gets out before Jaskier is grabbing his face to kiss him a handful of times in slow succession. Each one matches the beat of his heart seemingly, leaving him a little breathless and a lot in love. They hadn't talked about dropping love confessions on each other since they’d decided to avoid the topic by fucking in the airport bathroom, and that's fine, if Eskel’s honest. He doesn't want to rush into anything yet, even if it feels like he's known Jaskier for his whole life—that has been weird for him besides the relief he feels that is difficult to wrap his head around. 

“It is, and you're a lifesaver. For the past forty minutes I’ve been fighting the sleep energy, any longer by myself and I _would_ have taken a nap on one of these awful papers,” Jaskier says, leaning in for another kiss while Eskel wraps an arm around him. 

He makes everything so _easy_. 

When they break apart this time, Eskel has an armful of Jaskier sagging against him, feeling every bit exhausted as he sounds. “You can take a nap, you know.”

“But if I take a nap now, then I’ll have to spend more time tomorrow morning on it instead of _just_ submitting grades, because if I put this off any longer then I’ll never do it and I’m gonna get so many emails asking about grades,” Jaskier says, whining, and pulling out of his grasp to move to finally close the door, turning the overhead light off a moment later. “I _hate_ answering emails about grades.”

Eskel raises an eyebrow at him, but Jaskier goes about fixing the blinds. “The farmer’s market is open until three, we don't have to be there when it opens at ten.”

“But _I_ want to be there when it opens, because otherwise the cottagecore hoes _will_ buy all the good sunflowers, and I think a pitcher of them would look lovely on the kitchen table. _Not_ if they're the half rotted ones though, I have standards,” Jaksier says, adjusting the last of the blinds. 

“ _Cottagecore hoes_.”

“They’re real, and they’ll gut you if you aren’t careful… _ah_ , there, perfect. _No_ ,” and Jaskier continues to try adjusting the height of them until they’re at what seems to be a _very_ specific two fifths of the way closed, letting in enough light from the golden day outside that the lack of unnatural fluorescent light is not missed.

And really, it is a _beautiful_ day out. At this time of year in the afternoon, what’s left of the yellowed and orangey and red leaves on the trees bounce the soft, cool light of the autumn sun back so gorgeously. Most of the trees are bare, at least, the one that has the branches tapping on the window panes as the steady breeze floats dried leaves about. Winter is still a ways off and he is thankful for that considering autumn is his favorite time of year, and experiencing this season with Jaskier has been incredible. That’s the only word for it, _incredible_. 

Last weekend they went to pick apples at an orchard, both of them coming to an agreement that Belhaven apples are objectively bland and disgusting. Then they went back to his place and made an apple galette that came out _impeccable_. Between the two of them, Eskel is the better cook and Jaskier is the better baker, he’s come to find. A few weekends before—closer to Halloween—they had gone to pick pumpkins and carved one together, a second had been turned into pumpkin pie, and the third had been turned into soup. Besides that, their dates in between have been… _nice_. It’s refreshing, being so comfortable, even if being so at ease is scary. Getting to know Jaskier has been worth it at all turns.

“You’ve got that look on your face,” Jaskier says, cleaning up his desk from stacks of papers that he puts off to the side atop his wide filing cabinet. “That soft sappy look, what’re you thinking about?” Jaskier asks it as he takes the tray from Eskel, pulling his coffee out of it before tossing the cardboard in his recycling bin in the corner. The cup is put down on the edge of the desk, and Jaskier crowds back into his space to kiss him again; he tastes like his minty chapstick that leaves Eskel’s lips tingling afterward.

It’s automatic when he says, “You,” once they part, but the expression Jaskier gets on his face makes his heart leap into his throat for a second. Naturally, Eskel wraps his arms around him, feeling the thrill of warmth snaking through his chest when Jaskier closed mouth whines at him.

“I’m gonna pretend that wasn’t the gayest thing I’ve heard all day, so, _anyway_ , I’m surprised to see you so early. Not that I’m upset you’re stopping by, but is there a reason?” Jaskier’s arms wind more fully around him, graceful fingers playing with the fine hair at the back of his neck.

“Do I need a reason?” Jaskier gets another look on his face that makes Eskel feel like he’s going to lose all his breath, so he takes pity on the both of them by elaborating, “I had some errands to run in town, and since I have nothing else to do now that they’re done, I figured I’d bring you some tea and a snack.”

“ _And a snack_ , you’re _angelic_ , darling. A man cut from the cloth of the gods, sent down to Earth make my life easier. And you’re so considerate that it makes my heart hurt.” Jaskier sags against him again, head on Eskel’s chest. “You absolutely do _not_ have to stick around while I grade… I’m not gonna ask you to stay if you don’t want to but I’m not gonna kick you out. If you do stay, maybe you’ll motivate me to speed through the rest of these essays and we can leave faster.”

He… could stick around, really, if Jaskier wanted him to. His errands are done, but there is still stuff he could do at home in the meantime before dinner. It just depends on if Jaskier has anything else to do before their loose dinner plans. “You gonna need to go home at all afterward?” 

“Nah, I’ve got my bag for the weekend over in the corner,” Eskel looks where Jaskier points when he pauses, “I’m all set to leave after these are done, but not a second sooner.”

Eskel squeezes him around the middle, sighing when he gets a whiff of another one of Jaskier’s earthy perfumes. It’s different from the first one, and really, Jaskier seems to have one for every occasion. This one smells like the temptation of a spirit roaming the woods among a forest of hickory and cedar, more summery and electrifying than the time of year would imply, but it fits today’s _just_ warm temperature. “Can’t promise I’ll be useful, but I can stick around as motivation.”

Jaskier clutches Eskel’s neck for another extra squeeze before he lets go and moves away, a grin on his face that Eskel is now recognizing as being in the path of danger. “Go sit in my chair then, stud.”

Eskel’s hands slip onto Jaskier’s waist, squishing his hips gently. “We finally gonna play out an elaborate professor with his student fantasy?”

“Maybe,” Jaskier says, stepping away after dropping one last kiss to his jaw. “Go sit.”

So Eskel complies, picking up his coffee on the way and taking a sip before sitting down behind Jaskier’s desk and on his nice chair. And then he gets comfortable, shrugging his jacket off to drape over the back of it. Jaskier plucks the cup out of his hand and puts it on the desk next to his own cup, sitting sideways on Eskel’s lap and tiredly laying back against his chest, half sprawled over him. It’s a little concerning that he's pushing himself when he obviously needs some kind of break, so he hazards asking again, “You really doing okay Jask?” 

“Can I close my eyes for a few seconds before I decide on your exciting punishment? Just don't let me fall asleep.” His eyes are shut already, Jaskier breathing out a long breath as he relaxes against Eskel, and isn't _that_ something. Jaskier being so at ease around him that he doesn't even register Eskel’s arms moving around him beyond softening even further.

“I won't let you fall asleep, but you’re going to bed early later if you're this exhausted.”

“I’m not,” Jaskier says, snuggling into his flannel just a little bit. Eskel hums, his pulse racing from affection, the mushy feeling intensifying that much more. 

“We can cross that bridge when we come to it, but you _do_ look dog-tired.”

“I _am_ dog-tired, I feel like I’ve been at this for _days_ , and it's not even finals yet for another month. I don't have the energy for thiiiis,” Jaskier whines, and then he looks up at him with those pretty, weary eyes that push concern into him.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“You’re too sweet to me, I already told you I’m _fine_ ,” Jaskier says, sneaking his arms around Eskel as best as he can with him sitting in the chair. “If you’re still concerned about the little dizzy spell I had last weekend, we already determined it was because I skipped breakfast and I haven't done that since! And I’ve been fine, ergo, no need to worry about that. What I _am_ worried about is having a long weekend with you, so I need to get this done.”

“And you will, but you can still take a little tiny nap, and then maybe eat the muffin I brought you, and later we can figure out what we want for dinner,” Eskel says, rubbing his knuckles over the base of Jaskier’s spine over his sweater. 

His lovely datefriend sighs and sinks further into him, if possible. “Really though, you’re too good to me. Where did you come from?” Eskel feels an uneasy breath fall from Jaskier’s lips-—absolutely preposterous, it's almost like _Jaskier_ is the one with doubts. Like Eskel isn't the one who is actually afraid of fucking this very fresh and deeply terrifying relationship up.

“I should be askin’ you that one, sugar,” Eskel mumbles into Jaskier’s hair, dropping a kiss to his head. He's satisfied when Jaskier doesn't respond, and he looks at the wall clock to take note of the time so he doesn't let Jaskier fall into a deep sleep. He gives him just a little over twenty minutes, until the clock hits half past two and the shadows from the empty branches of the tree outside the window have moved enough to be noticeable. It’s still plenty bright enough outside and not close to sunset just yet, the golden glow of the sun is bouncing around to light up the room.

Holding him through his nap and watching him rest makes Eskel’s chest ache in a way he’s scared to put a name to. It’s already on his tongue, thick in his throat, coating his lungs with every breath of it. Something deep and archaic, a feeling that leaches into his bones and makes him feel simultaneously so cripplingly weak and also stronger than he’s ever felt before. The depth of his want is terrifying, in its own way. Exhilarating to behold, too. Eskel feels like he could and _would_ rip someone apart with his bare hands if anyone ever harmed Jaskier.

A phantom daydream of gore and blood coats his hands and his heart, and maybe the phantom feeling _had_ been real, once.

When Eskel shakes him gently, Jaskier groans his complaints, but he sits up all the same and leans in for a kiss that misses his lips. He catches Eskel at the corner of his mouth instead, and then he scoots up to wrap his arms around Eskel’s neck, laying his head on his shoulder. “You’re a saint, I actually feel _so_ much better.”

“See? A little nap never hurt anyone.” Sitting up straighter, Eskel holds Jaskier close to not jostle him too much.

“Until it does,” Jaskier says, huffing a short breath and turning his body so he’s facing his desk the same as Eskel. “Scoot the chair in a bit, darling?”

“That was unnecessarily cryptic,” Eskel says as he complies, bringing them closer to the desk.

Jaskier picks up his tea and takes a sip, making a pleased noise when he puts it down, “You really actually do spoil me, you remembered the exact ratio to not overpower—”

“—The delicate elderflower, I know,” Eskel murmurs into Jaskier's ear when he leans forward a bit, kissing his cheek chastely. Or, as chastely as he can while Jaskier squirms in his lap, reminding him very acutely of when he'd first arrived. “If this is my fantasy punishment for being a naughty student, I think I got the better end of the deal.” 

“Oh! You’re right.” His hands are plucked off of Jaskier entirely, shoved to the side completely. “You _have_ been naughty, my extremely sexy and handsome pupil. You’ve committed crimes today, and now you’re gonna get punished.” Jaskier hooks his legs around Eskel’s from the inside, leaning forward toward his desk and picking up his stack of work.

“First I’m an angel, and now a criminal? Can those two modes coexist?”

“They can, and I’m sitting on top of the world's number one angel-criminal hybrid. Who also happens to be my student in this scenario? I’m still working out the logistics on this one, so work with me here babe.” Chuckling, Eskel instead puts his hands behind his neck, threading his fingers together as he waits for whatever Jaskier decides. It doesn’t take him long, apparently, shaking the stack of paper in his hand while he says, “Got it!”

“ _Do_ you now?” Eskel asks, amused.

“Rule one, no sass. You uh… you mouthed off at me during my lecture, how dare you question your hot professor? I went to school for way too long to deal with you questioning my knowledge—“

“If this is charades, you’d be Marx, who actually, I bumped into in the hall earlier. He looked like he was gonna piss himself.” The laugh that Jaskier makes is the most heart wrenchingly adorable (and vengeful) laugh that Eskel has ever had the pleasure of hearing.

“Oh my god… it’s what he deserves, but _please_ follow the rules, darling. No talking for now as an equal measure of concentration for me and for your punishment.”

“For my crimes.”

“For your _criiiiiimes_ ,” Jaskier reiterates again, leaning back against Eskel to kiss him. “I mean it now, no more unless I ask for an answer.” He also reaches back to ruffle Eskel’s hair, sitting up straight after. “Rule number two, if you want to be a good boy then you can’t touch me unless I say it’s okay.”

He almost opens his mouth again, but breaking his first rule immediately would be in poor taste. Jaskier already knows his safeword, and they’ve had the discussion about being able to tap out at any point no matter what they’re doing, no questions asked. Really, it’s a relief to know that he’s safe in Jaskier’s hands like this. More than that though, it’s shocking that he already has this level of trust with him. 

“And rule three… Actually, I don’t know if I have a third one. No talking, and don’t let those beautiful paws of yours roam my scholarly body. If I have any more instructions, you have to follow them. There, that’s rule three, a sufficient amount of rules. Easy, right?” Eskel hums his agreement to the terms and earns a wiggle of Jaskier’s hips in his lap.

Oh.

And that is when he remembers Jaskier jerking him off in the hotel shower, talking about keeping him locked up in his office while he warms his cock. This is that _exact_ scenario, or at least, Eskel wants it to be. There’s still clothes in the way, but knowing Jaskier now? He’s _sure_ this will happen.

“These papers _suck_ , is the worst part, I think,” Jaskier says, dropping the pile again to the top of his desk. “Like. On all levels, even physical. This student really handed me a paper with three typos in the first sentence. I don’t even grade on spelling and most grammar as long as it makes sense, but _wow_.”

He shifts his hips again, and Eskel bites the inside of his cheek to keep from making a sound. His dick is already interested, not hard yet, but he’s had a bit of chub going on since Jaskier woke up. _Maybe_ a little bit while he was resting, but who can blame him? And now, Jaskier is _definitely_ doing it intentionally, very deliberately squirming. 

“God, Eskel, I've been thinking about what I said when we met. That I’d tie you to my chair and warm your cock. Okay, I’m not even gonna pretend I haven't been thinking all day about you showing up and me doing that, and then you physically manifested into my office like some kind of sexy, gorgeous djinn here to grant my every desire,” Jaskier says with a sigh. “Okay, yeah, no, we’re not doing sexy djinn role play _and_ sexy professor role play, I’ll save my wishes—oh, _huh_. Actually, wait a second.” 

Reaching over to his sticky note cube, Jaskier plucks one off and writes himself a note, sticking it inside a messy desk drawer as Eskel chuckles with a closed mouth over his boy’s indecipherable antics. He’s absolutely incorrigible; Jaskier’s pause is over quickly, leaving Eskel loosely questioning as to what that was about. He’s of course, distracted. “Okay, anyway, you’re being so good for me, my dear student. Good boys get to put their hands on my thighs.” Jaskier rocks his hips and adjusts himself to rub more against his cock that is _completely_ interested now. The praise makes Eskel flustered, but he finally brings his hands back up to rest on his thighs, rubbing at the jean material gently.

Jaskier sighs, contented, and picks his pen up, going back to the half marked paper in front of him. It’s a few more minutes until he's done, writing comments on the last page and flipping it over to write the numerical grade on the top page. Then it goes in the finished pile, and Jaskier grabs another. Eskel squeezes and rubs his thighs, never moving his fingers too far to do anything but tease. It’s enough, though, and Jaskier whines tiredly before batting his hands away and getting up off his lap. “Take that beautiful cock out while I lock the door.” 

It’s a command that has Eskel all but scrambling to comply with it while Jaskier gets up off his lap, stepping around the desk to turn the deadbolt and the doorknob lock. The soft sound of his belt being unbuckled paired with unzipping, he pushes his jeans down enough to take his dick out, sitting back up in the chair. Jaskier kicks his shoes off next to the desk before hopping up onto the hardwood. That little detail of an expensive piece of furniture inside of a prestigious professor’s office _really_ does it for him—the type of wood is just on the edge of expensive enough that it makes it impressive, especially the finer bits of wood work and time and effort—

“Look how darling you look, like a snared little animal that I caught in my devious trap. And it _is_ devious,” Jaskier says, closing his mouth firmly. He reaches beside his hips and grabs his pile of essays, placing the pile on his knees, both of them drawn up now since Jaskier puts his feet on Eskel’s thighs and counts out his work. Eskel expects him to say something, but, _nothing_. And his cock is out in the open air, a little bit of chub but otherwise ignored.

Jaskier rubs at Eskel’s jeans with the soles of his feet idly, having already picked up his pen so he can mark up the essay he’s currently reading. But that's it, and Eskel almost asks Jaskier something, but he's not already about to break the rules just because Jaskier is making him sweat this out. By the time Jaskier grumbles and writes his comments on the last page before flipping the pages to put the grade on the front, Eskel is starting to feel uncomfortable under the heat of the afternoon sun shining through the windows even with his jacket off. He’s starting to squirm, especially when Jaskier’s foot smooths further up his leg, closer to his cock. _God_ , Eskel isn't even someone who likes this kind of thing, but fuck if he doesn't hush his own hard breath when Jaskier’s socked foot prods his cock.

“Okay, loverboy, I _cannot_ keep up the strict professor hot for naughty student act, because I want to _strangle_ some of my real ones for forcing me to read these. So we’re gonna put that on the backburner and you’re just a darling, handsome man who I adore very much. And if I could drop to my knees right now and suck you off without completely throwing off my grading schedule, I would,” Jaskier says, dragging the sole of his foot across Eskel’s shaft. “I have fifteen essays left, and I can get each one done in about seven minutes if I don't complain, less if I speed through it. So, I’m gonna be optimistic and say an hour and a half. Does that sound okay?”

With his dick out? Questionable, but he’ll trust Jaskier—Jaskier, his lovely datefriend who is looking at him expectantly, waiting for Eskel's answer. Humming his agreement, he says, “Yeah.” 

“ _Perfect_.” Jaskier softly steps on his cock, pushing it back toward his stomach and lightly rubbing the soft material of his sock over sensitive skin. “You’re being so good for me, keeping quiet and letting me work. Are you comfortable?”

Another quiet ‘yes’, and Eskel leans back and closes his eyes, focusing on the silence save for the flipping of pages and the scratch of pen. It's easier, drifting like this, letting his mind wander while trying not to focus on the light stimulation now that he knows how long of a tease he's in for. What he doesn't expect is Jaskier’s other foot pushing into where his pants are undone, toeing under his balls with a slow, precise rub that makes Eskel’s eyes pop open. Jaskier is unconcerned, looking for all intents and purposes absorbed in his work. 

It’s not _torture_ , but his blood is rushing away from his head a little quicker now, his heart picking up speed as his cock gets thicker under the attention. Eskel takes a deep breath as quietly as he can, not sure if Jaskier’s rules extend to moans, but he sure as hell bites one back while his hands ball into fists. The soft material of Jaskier’s socks makes it that much more maddening, his hips pushing up a little to try and get more friction, and that's when both feet disappear completely. He cautions a look to Jaskier’s face, and he looks _very_ satisfied with himself, moreso when he finally flips back to the front of the paper he's on and puts his grade on top. 

His pile gets put down again in favor of grabbing his drink to take a sip, but then Jaskier opens the lid and scoops out one of the half cubes before popping it in his mouth so he can close the lid and put the cup down. Then he spits the ice cube back out into his hand as he hops off the desk and instead straddles one of Eskel's legs. “Is this okay?” The top-cold touch of ice to his cock is paired with Jaskier leaning against him to drop a soft kiss onto his lips.

Eskel pants against Jaskier’s mouth while his hips buck up into the loose grip of Jaskier’s fingers, the ice cupped against hot flesh. Sitting in the coziness of Jaskier’s warm office, the temperature shock catches him off guard, and Eskel ends up moaning against Jaskier’s mouth before he can even answer. Now that he's so close, Eskel can smell his perfume again, and it is _intoxicating_ ; the loss of his scent when Jaskier moves back to look at him is absolutely fucking awful, but it hardly matters when the ice slides over the head of his cock. At least this time he's able to bite back a noise.

“I wish you wouldn't do that,” Jaskier says with a pout, prodding at his slit with the rounded edge of the half-melted ice. “Do you have any idea how hot it makes me when you make noise? I wanna know how good I make you feel, I wanna hear how worked up you are for me, Esk. I wanna know, because every single second since you walked in this door I’ve wanted to sit on your cock so bad I can _taste_ it; you make me so fucking wet I can't even concentrate long enough to read a single sentence without thinking about you bending me over my desk and fucking me full.”

Eskel sucks in a loud, stuttering breath after all the air rushes from his lungs, rendered thoughtless for a moment while Jaskier resumes jerking him off slow and steady. The melting ice leaves cold water dripping down to his balls, but even the slight discomfort is _nothing_ in comparison to Jaskier looking at him like a piece of meat. “Tell me how it feels.” It's a command, and Jaskier punctuates it with grinding down on Eskel’s thigh. 

“I-it’s good,” Eskel says, voice rough from a throat that feels much too dry. He’s so turned on right now that it’s almost disorienting to also feel like he’s being wrapped in a worn wool blanket—soft, fuzzy, and above all he feels _safe_. Jaskier makes him feel safe, and that's an overwhelming thought to be having when Jaskier is teasing him. 

“You’re perfect,” he pauses, and Eskel can hear what's left of the ice quietly thud to the carpet the moment after Jaskier lets go and grabs him by the face to pull him into a kiss. It’s just as soft as the last one until Jaskier swipes his tongue over the jagged scarring at the corner of Eskel’s lips; he opens up into it, and he can feel Jaskier smile against him. The touch of his tongue is probably meant to be a tease, but Jaskier doesn't let up. He almost feels helpless, itching to scoop Jaskier up and drop him on his desk and fuck him until he can't speak, but Eskel has rules to follow—as arbitrary as they might actually be, Eskel doesn't want to break them. 

Jaskier moans into his mouth while wrapping his arms around Eskel’s neck, and his brain finally catches up to the one permission he does have, his own hands moving to squeeze Jaskier’s thighs; his soft, perfect thighs that Eskel wants to bury his head between and never leave. That earns him a whine and Jaskier grinding down on his leg harder before the whole deal dissolves. Eskel groans in _very_ thinly veiled distress when his lips try to follow Jaskier’s when they part, all sorts of worked up now and panting quietly. 

The immensity of how much he wants the person in his lap, of how much Eskel wants Jaskier to touch him and praise him is ridiculous. This whole situation is ridiculous—Eskel never thought he would be the guy to surprise a lover by bringing them the spoils of an afternoon coffee run. He never thought something so seemingly casual could feel so instantly deep, like there is some kind of tangible connection they could already have. Yet here he is, paralyzed with desire and nearly shaking with how he’s coming undone with so little effort. 

At first? Eskel fully believed it was because they’d had great sex and that whatever spark he felt would fizzle out like it _always_ does. That's been his curse more than a few times, people seeing his gnarly scar and wanting to conquer a grizzled, ugly sonuvabitch only to find he doesn't fit whatever fantasy stereotype they want out of him. Jaskier, though, says and does things that make him feel like he can trust him to keep his heart safe. It's certainly terrifying, but it is so easy to succumb to Jaskier’s sweet words. Easier, still, to relax into Jaskier cupping his cheek while his thumb rubs over his scars. “Still with me baby?”

“Hm,” Eskel hums, closing his eyes for a second. His cheek pushes into Jaskier’s hand, his lover’s quiet little giggle making him feel lighter than ever in his heart. 

“Fucking _gorgeous_ , you know that?” Eskel believes it, and the swarm of butterflies in his stomach believe it too. “You’re always so good for me, and I can't wait to get you home later so I can give you a better reward. But I think you’ve earned something… almost as good.” One last, too-brief peck to his lips, and Jaskier stands up and unbuttons his own jeans, pulling them and his boxers down to mid-thigh in one motion. 

Eskel's eyes immediately are drawn to Jaskier’s body hair, and what he would _give_ to get his mouth on him right now. His mouth finally waters–doing nothing to help Eskel’s dry throat–at the thought of getting a taste of him even for just a few seconds. Even if Eskel _could_ get away with shoving Jaskier down onto his desk to eat him out and fuck him, he actually does want to follow the rules. He wants to be—

Jaskier forces his gaze up by grabbing Eskel’s jaw with his thumb and forefinger, heart racing at being caught staring, but that doesn't matter when Jaskier guides him up into a kiss. Their eyes lock, Jaskier moaning into his mouth while he shoves his tongue past Eskel’s slack lips and steals his breath. Exhaling deeply, his cock throbs where it's laying against his thigh. Jaskier moans again and bites at Eskel’s bottom lip before pulling back with a smirk, his only warning for the wet fingers tracing his lips– _oh_.

“Pretty boy,” Jaskier says, teasing him by dragging his fingers across the chapped skin. Eskel can feel the flush creep up his neck at the compliment, his tongue poking out of his mouth to try and catch a taste. Jaskier lets him, and Eskel moans appreciatively when his fingers slip into his mouth. “You're so good for me, even cleaning my fingers for me without me asking. Do I taste good?”

Jaskier’s fingers press down onto his tongue, stroking it gently; Eskel moans around his fingers, louder when one digit slips under his tongue and squeezes it between them. It’s _embarrassing_ , but Eskel feels positively _cherished_ when he looks into Jaskier’s eyes and only sees adoration. It’s an answer that seems to be good enough for him, but something changes when Jaskier shuffles his weight on his feet and he muffles a weird little shriek through his teeth. 

It breaks the atmosphere enough, Jaskier’s fingers slipping from his mouth followed by a string of Eskel’s drool. “Stepped in the _fucking_ ice cube puddle,” Jaskier mumbles, whining as he steps to the side. “You’re _distracting_ and I hate it, but it's not your fault… it's mine for putting it off for so long.” To be fair, he _did_ , Eskel got a few texts through the week about how Jaskier has been crawling through his grading.

Resigning himself with a sigh, Jaskier gives Eskel one more kiss before turning around and getting back over his lap. His cock is grabbed when Jaskier reaches between his own legs to line him up, and then Eskel groans a half-broken noise when his lover finally sinks down onto him. Warm, and soaking wet, and _perfect_. Except now, Eskel is going to have to last for far too long until whatever resolution Jaskier chooses. 

“You feel _so good_ inside me and I wanna ride you so bad, but I need you to be good until I finish grading. You can't move unless you have to adjust how you're sitting, and you can't cum until I say it's okay. Are you okay with that?” Jaskier leans back against his chest as he asks, and it takes Eskel a moment to realize the question quietly is being asked outside of their impromptu roleplay.

Breathing deep for a second, Eskel wraps his arms around Jaskier’s waist and squeezes gently. “You know my word, and I know how to use it if I gotta.”

“Good,” Jaskier says, clamping down on his cock, “You’ve been so good to me today, soooooo as long as you don't distract me, you have free reign, good boy. But, if you _do_ follow my rules, I’ll be nicer to you later.”

Eskel is tempted to ask what that means, but it's more fun to keep himself quiet now. Humming his agreement, Eskel lets Jaskier go, sitting back and closing his eyes while he breathes and calms himself down so he's not immediately overwhelmed. It feels too damn good having his dick buried deep in Jaskier, but he's determined to follow the rules.

This time, the rustling of pages seems slower, though maybe it's because Eskel’s perception of time is getting skewed. When he opens his eyes again, the light from outside coming in seems even more golden, lighting everything up between the shadows being cast by the bare tree branches scraping up against the side of this building. It helps him focus, though, on the comfort of sitting here rather than pleasure. 

Jaskier is a pleasant weight in his lap, warm and perfect; the light catches his hair, showing off the different shades of brown peppered with a few adorable greys. He wants to push his fingers through the strands, maybe while he kisses the back of Jaskier’s neck, but he doesn't have to be chided to know that would be distracting. Everything he can think of would be too distracting, so instead he lets himself relax into the warmth of the room. 

Looking around the room he notices that Jaskier actually does have a lot of books, and they don't seem to be for show either. There are more than a few well-worn spines peeking out from the bookcases, and he can see the sticky note tabs peeking out from the tops of a few volumes on the lower shelves—some interesting titles pop out to Eskel on the closer ones, but most of them are too small to read at the distance. It only reinforces that Jaskier is much more learned than he is, but Eskel doesn't feel inadequate at all. Not that Eskel can't keep up or feels he has to in the first place, but Jaskier has worked so hard to get to this point. Seeing the proof of that makes his chest swell with a pride that he isn't sure is misplaced or not since Jaskier’s education happened before they ever met.

He still feels it though, in his lungs that stretch with his deep breath and in his heart that beats a little too quickly. Jaskier turns a page and grumbles, “Melitele _help me_ ,” making Eskel breathe out a quick laugh through his nose. “I don't even _care_ about the way my students cite stuff, but this is lifted from a wiki page when I gave them a specific passage from a textbook to lift their analysis from. Sure, it's a textbook that's out of publication, but that's why I spent 45 minutes scanning and uploading a ten page .pdf for them. Jessica didn't get the memo, I _guess_.” 

Jaskier marks up something, leaning forward and over his desk a little more at the same time Eskel readjusts his position since his ass is starting to get a little numb from sitting for so long. It changes the angle just enough for Jaskier to grind down onto his cock with a ragged sound, squeezing him and bouncing in frustration. All that accomplishes is Eskel groaning as he grabs hold of Jaskier’s legs over his jeans, steadying them both. There’s a second when they're both sitting still and panting where Eskel’s control almost snaps—his arms tense, and he nearly springs up to drop Jaskier onto his desk so he can fuck him—but he stops himself and instead presses his temple to Jaskier’s back, drawing in a trembling breath. 

Finally, Jaskier relaxes and deflates against him, breathing the same shaky inhale before his cunt grips his cock again and he breathily says, “ _Good boy_.” That does the trick in paralyzing him again, making Eskel whine and his hips twitch; he’s absolutely powerless to how good Jaskier feels around him, which Jaskier must know by how he reaches back to push his fingers through Eskel’s hair to gently scratch his scalp. Almost like he's being _pet_.

“I’m so glad you're here right now.” Eskel’s hands are grabbed from Jaskier’s thighs, and his arms are guided to wrap around his waist instead over his sweater. “I’m glad, but this was the worst idea I’ve ever had and I’m never doing this on a deadline again.”

Eskel squeezes his middle and they settle back down again. This time, Jaskier dives into his work while Eskel closes his eyes and focuses on breathing. His cock throbs every time they have the slightest of movements together, and it doesn't help that Jaskier rocks against him every time he’s about to flip a page. 

It is considerably later when Eskel opens his eyes again as Jaskier shifts suddenly, the shadows on the wall having moved even more as the sun starts descending quicker. There should still be a good hour or two until the sun actually sets, but he's not really concerned about the time. The sound of crinkling is what pulls him out of his fuzzy headspace, and Eskel realizes it's the muffin bag at the same time Jaskier’s stomach growls. 

“Okay, _break_. Do you want a piece, sweetheart?” Jaskier has a piece of the top ripped off between his fingers when Eskel looks up over his shoulder.

“I got it for you,” Eskel says as he places his chin on Jaskier’s shoulder. 

His lover knocks his head against Eskel’s and whines, “I don't wanna ruin dinner though…”

“Who said you're ruining dinner? We still don't know what we’re doing, and there's no set time we gotta eat at.” Turning his head, he presses his lips to Jaskier’s neck as his lover rocks his hips back and squeezes around his cock. Eskel’s moan comes from deep in his chest, rumbling up when he drops another kiss just below Jaskier’s ear. “Jask, you're gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

“Then eat the damn muffin piece, I’m trying to be cute.” As if Eskel's heart isn't constantly threatening to give out because of how effortlessly adorable his boyfriend is all the time. 

Are they boyfriends? Datefriends, that's how Jaskier put it, but they haven't had the relationship talk. Part of him is terrified, but that part is getting quieter as the days pass, softer with every minute they spend together or every time they text each other. He's pretty sure their blurted out love confessions still hold steady, even if they have been dancing around it for a month and a half. At least, Eskel is sure he's insane for feeling like a lovesick fool, but the sentiment hasn't waned. It’s only grown stronger, but he knows he's holding himself back from acknowledging it until they're both ready. 

“You’re always cute,” Eskel says, dropping another kiss to Jaskier’s neck while squeezing him around the middle. He can practically hear Jaskier rolling his eyes when he sighs, but Eskel turns his head anyway as he says, “Be cute, sugar.” 

“You’re a _menace_ ,” Jaskier says as he pops the piece into Eskel’s open mouth, but it has less to do with calling him cute and more to do with Eskel pushing his hand under his sweater. But he doesn't stop him, preoccupied now with leaning back against Eskel while he takes a bite of the muffin. “ _Oh_ this is _divine_ ,” spoken through chewing, “you beautiful thoughtful wonderful amazing person, why are you so good to me?”

“Because I like you,” Eskel says, accepting another piece, this time licking Jaskier’s fingertips. His own fingers gently pet down the soft hair on Jaskier’s stomach, squishing down lightly as he rubs. He can feel Jaskier tremble in his grip, and he wonders if he's at his limit too—it’s absurd that Eskel’s cock is still just as hard as it had been an indeterminable amount of time ago, unable to chase relief for himself.

“I'm the luckiest bitch alive, then. How has nobody else snatched you up yet?” Eskel bites back the immediate reaction of contradicting him, and he sits on his own past heartaches for now lest he spoil the mood. Instead, he lets himself stew in his gratefulness, settling down again and sitting back in the chair with another readjusting of himself that jostles Jaskier in his lap. They both moan for it, though his lover’s is muffled behind a closed mouth.

He doesn't expect Jaskier to grind down onto him, arching his back while he braces himself against the desk with one hand. “ _Oh fuck_ ,” is his only warning before Jaskier does it again, lifting himself up first before grinding back down lazily. Gripping Jaskier’s stomach tighter, his fingers dig into the soft flesh while he remembers his optional rules. This time, it’s too hard to keep his hips still, his control slipping the dizzier the pleasure makes him. 

Eskel’s other hand moves up to cup Jaskier’s chest, pulling him closer and burying his face in the back of his neck. The lingering sweet, musky notes of his perfume are _intoxicating_ ; it feels like Jaskier is everywhere, now—in his hands, in his head, his heart, his lungs… And the longer Jaskier slowly rides his cock, the deeper his emotions run right alongside the electricity sparking up his spine in bursts, burying his nose into his neck to inhale the scent of a storm that might brew close to a misty forest during the dog days of summer. His hips can only keep up the sedate pace for so long until he's fucking up into Jaskier, moaning haggardly into his neck as he does it. He is in love and it makes him _ache_ , so much that he doesn't know what to do with himself and it is absolutely _frightening_ , but Eskel will not turn away from this. 

The feel of fingers very suddenly grabbing his balls paired with Jaskier leaning his head so he can bite at Eskel’s earlobe almost makes him cum on the spot. His cock throbs inside of Jaskier, but the one word command, “Stop,” makes him do just that. Eskel _whines_ , trembling like a leaf while they sit together, Jaskier panting right in his ear. They take a few moments to cool down, eyes closed and using every shred of his concentration to keep himself still with Jaskier splayed out atop him. The wind outside picks up, bare branches scratching the glass on the windows, helping to ground Eskel a little more back into the present.

“Good boy.” Jaskier breathes the words out more than he says them, clamping down on Eskel’s cock while letting his balls go in favor of grabbing the hand on Jaskier’s chest, twining their fingers together. The warmth flares through his whole body, moaning openly and without reservation while every thought leaves his head that isn't for his love. “You’re perfect, do you know that?” 

Jaskier’s lips brush across the scars on his cheek at the same time he pushes Eskel’s hand down to palm at his cunt. His fingers push into wetness, and Eskel doesn't have to be told what to do, rubbing at his clit and making him keen quietly. “ _Yesss_ , you’re so fucking good, baby. Know what I need all the time, make me feel so fuckin’ good,” his tongue drags across Eskel’s cheek, and it's _past_ overwhelming, but he tries his best to keep himself together and not cum _or_ die.

His lover comes with a cry that gets muffled in his neck, cunt spasming around Eskel’s cock. He can feel the gush of slick inside, but Eskel isn't allowed to move—the rules, the _rules_ , he has to follow the rules, he has to be good, he wants Jaskier to praise him more and give him a reward and he wants to be the perfect person he says he is and he wants and wants and _wants_ , and Eskel is in love and he _needs_ to know if it's still the same for Jaskier and that their confession in the airport wasn't just talk, and he needs and _needs_ and he's shaking and Jaskier feels incredible in his arms and he never wants to let go— 

Jaskier turns enough in his lap to make his cock slip out; he's painfully hard, throbbing with need, but the last thing on his mind is his release when his face is grabbed, making his eyes fly open to see blue eyes so close to his own. “You’re mine, love. Nobody else can ever have you, do you understand me? You are _mine_.” 

“ _Yours_ ,” Eskel gasps out while Jaskier grabs his wrists to pull his hands off him so he can stand up, turning around so he can straddle him while facing him after he pulls a leg out of his jeans to move more easily. 

He knows he's a mess, can feel the flush on his face spanning down to his neck, but Jaskier has that look of worship on his face that tells Eskel he's safe with him, like this. There is no shame or embarrassment in his beating heart clawing its way up into his throat; his silence is understood and his prize for it is a kiss he can feel down to his bones. Jaskier grabs his face gently and presses their lips fully together, licking at his bottom lip after a moment to which Eskel opens up _gratefully_. Maybe he is a fool for plummeting into his bliss so audaciously and freely, but Jaskier hasn't let him shatter from the fall yet. 

Eskel _trusts_ him.

Stupidly, fearlessly, like this has always been inevitable. 

Maybe it has, maybe Jaskier has always been inevitable. It certainly feels like it when Eskel gains back feeling in his limbs enough to reach between them and slip two fingers into his cunt, swallowing both of their moans. Their kiss breaks for Jaskier to groan out his name while dropping his hands to Eskel’s shoulders, meeting the rhythm of his fingers stroking inside of him with an energy that is intoxicating. Quiet babbling turns into desperate little noises when Eskel pulls up Jaskier’s sweater and starts mouthing at his chest around his binder. He spares a thought for Jaskier’s comfort, wondering how long he's been wearing it today. Too long, judging by the deep wear lines his lips find. 

His breaths come out stuttered and uneven, and Jaskier wobbles in his lap until Eskel reaches around him to hold his lover with his arm around his back. The sweater falls down enough to cover Eskel’s head, making him chuckle around dropping kisses on sensitive skin before pulling his head out of Jaskier’s shirt so he can watch him. Eskel’s shoulders get squeezed harder, Jaskier's nails scratching at the fabric of the flannel. He sounds incredible, breathy little gasps sounding off above Eskel’s head as he fingers him. 

Eskel wants a taste, he wants to shove Jaskier down on his desk and knock everything off and eat him out until he _screams_. He wants Jaskier to ride his face and suffocate him, and Eskel would _thank_ him. If Jaskier told him to never breathe again, he would hold his breath without complaint until his lungs burst.

The terror of loving is boundlessly exhilarating; the serene dread of wanting to be loved in exchange is immeasurable.

Jaskier squeezes hard around his fingers again as Eskel thrusts them deep while thumbing at his clit, and his beautiful canary _sings_. He seizes up with another orgasm that leaves _Eskel_ breathless, his lover collapsing against him tiredly. By now, the sun has sunk more, almost behind the trees this late in the afternoon. The whole office seems bathed in the golden autumn light, and yet again Eskel’s heart beats painfully in his chest at Jaskier looking positively ethereal under the illumination. 

They sit together in the silence of the afternoon for a couple of minutes while Jaskier recovers. He's got the one arm around him, but his fingers are still buried in Jaskier, who hums his contentment when he squeezes them gently. “I have five more papers, but I dunno if I have the energy anymore…” 

“Nobody said you can't take ‘em home and grade them while I’m out in the yard later bedding down the goats. You can take a break.” The decrepit heater behind them along the length of the wall kicks on then, and Eskel is sure it'll be unbearably hot in the room soon.

Jaskier grunts and says, “No, I know myself. I'm going to save it for the morning and then I’ll _die_. I'm gonna do them now, and you’re going to suffer with me through it.” Eskel doesn't get a chance to ask what that means, but he has a pretty good idea when Jaskier finally makes him pull his hand away before slipping from his lap. “Let me watch you clean your fingers up first, darling.”

Jaskier leans on his bare ass against the edge of his desk looking absolutely radiant from pleasure. He looks relaxed, though more expectant and amused now that Eskel is staring at him wordlessly like an imprinted baby duckling. But when Eskel locks their gazes and sticks his fingers into his mouth to suck them clean, Jaskier’s eyes darken. Coincidentally, that's when Eskel remembers his cock is still out, and he must look like a horny mess right now because he _is_ a horny mess. Though, he'd forgotten about his own need entirely while getting Jaskier off.

“You are… incredible, Eskel. Sent by the Gods themselves to tempt me into never getting anything done again. Do you think you can be a good boy and let me warm your cock again until I finish these?” Jaskier leans in with his hands on Eskel’s shoulders again, voice husky while he speaks. The joyfully helpless feeling of his world narrowing down is back, and every other thought leaves his head that isn't doing what he can to please his lover.

Nodding weakly, his eyes drop to Jaskier’s lips, the taste of him sitting on his tongue, thick and saccharine, and it's _still_ not enough. He wants more, he wants anything Jaskier will give him, feeling desperate very suddenly for whatever he will give him. His throat is raw and dry, but his only desire is to make sure Jaskier is comfortable, so he chokes out, “Please…” 

“So good for me,” Jaskier says, moving away from his lips, turning around so he can get back in Eskel's lap while facing the desk, sinking down on his cock with a quiet moan. Eskel can't keep himself silent, groaning deep as his body finally seems to remember he hasn't cum yet. But he also knows this isn't about him, that he's here for Jaskier's comfort and pleasure; his body isn’t cooperating, oversensitive and demanding attention. 

His lover hooks his legs around Eskel’s calves, grinding down against him, mewling from what is probably his own oversensitivity. Certainly, Eskel is too sensitive now, hissing as Jaskier settles down on him. He has no idea how long he can hold on for, but it'll be easier if Jaskier doesn't move—he wants to be good for him, he wants to stay still and let him work and not distract him, but now that he's buried back in the warmth of his cunt, Eskel feels like he’s seconds from coming. Like he's going to blow his load into Jaskier and he's going to expire while he does it. 

“Shhh,” Jaskier hushes him, laying back against Eskel’s chest while he whimpers, very suddenly overwhelmed. “You’re holding on so well for me, can you hold out just a little bit longer baby? I’ll make you feel so good later, but you gotta calm down. Can you focus on me?”

Focusing his concentration feels _impossible_ right now, as is keeping his hips from moving. The ever-present urge to pick Jaskier up and toss him onto his desk so he can fuck him has to be reigned back in, an almost too difficult task. For a moment, everything is too much, too loud and too bright and too strong, but Jaskier is there to grab his hands, threading their fingers together while pulling Eskel’s arms around him. He _tries_ , and finally after what feels like too long, Eskel matches his breathing up to Jaskier’s. Slower, deeper breaths, even as his whole body throbs with urgency. 

It’s too hot in this room, a fact that Jaskier seems to realize when he lets one of Eskel’s hands go to grab his tea. The ice in the cup rattles, picking up Eskel’s attention, but he doesn't expect Jaskier to put the straw at his lips. “Take a sip for me?”

The rush of cool liquid feels like an inferno being quashed; the comfort of relief is palpable by his grateful sigh of relief when Jaskier pulls the cup away so he can take his own sip. “There we go, there’s my good boy. Open up for me?” The lid is popped off, and Jaskier plucks out a half-melted ice cube, pushing it between Eskel’s lips before moving to put the cup back down. “I want you to count how many seconds it takes for the ice to melt, and once it’s gone, I want you to let me know. Can you do that for me?”

A simple instruction, but it does its part in keeping Eskel grounded while Jaskier sits up more fully so he can do his work. The coolness on his tongue is invigorating, and it brings some clarity back to him. At the very least, his head feels less weighed down by lead, and he can form coherent thoughts—the rest of the room comes back to him then, along with the sound of Jaskier scratching away at a paper with his pen and the lingering taste of elderflower and hibiscus on his tongue. The ice is too cold, and he knocks the cube around his teeth until it is completely melted. It doesn’t take long, though, which is Eskel’s cue to squeeze Jaskier around the waist. “Ninety three.”

“Hmmm,” Jaskier puts his pen down and rubs at Eskel’s hands where they rest over his abdomen. “Do you want another?” Without the distraction of the ice, the hazy feeling starts to sink back in, so he’s relieved to have another piece of ice given to him after he mumbles ‘please’. 

This time, he is able to keep his head on his shoulders, counting down the seconds until the ice melts. He gets to seventy eight and keeps counting as a relaxation tactic. Jaskier is merciful, just sitting on his cock without teasing him, so that helps him keep his concentration. Two hundred goes by, slowly, Jaskier moving onto the next paper. Eskel slips back into a pleasant stretch of silence, fuzzy without being overwhelmed—the periodic shifting of their bodies is more pleasant and doesn’t bring forth that same urgency. His cock is still painfully hard, but the comfort is easy to fall into. Eskel loses count around four hundred, instead leaning back in the chair, making it creak.

By the time the last paper has been graded, the sun is behind the trees, casting more shadows as the light begins to fade from the sky. The golden afternoon starts seeping into dusk quicker, the first and brightest stars visible above the horizon. Jaskier throws his pen down with a triumphant grunt, leaning back now fully on Eskel. “You still with me, Esk?”

“Hm, I’m alive back here,” he mumbles back to him, playing with the hem of Jaskier’s sweater over his abdomen. He doesn’t keep himself from slipping his hand under to rake his fingernails over the trail of hair down to his cunt. Jaskier sighs and stretches out over his chest, and Eskel can feel his joints popping as he relaxes. 

“I don’t wanna moveeeee,” comes the tired whine that is more adorable than it has any right to be. “The million farthing question _iiiiiiiis_...” Jaskier trails off and squeezes down on Eskel’s cock, leaning his head back on his shoulder so he can just see his eyes. “Do you wanna cum now, or can I tempt you into a better reward for being such a good boy later?”

It’s a question that catches Eskel off guard, a tremor tearing through his body. Right now, Eskel is so riled up that it feels like his control is hanging on by a thread and a prayer—it feels like if Jaskier does anything else, he might unravel at the seams. _But_ , he wants the praise from Jaskier more than anything, he wants to please him and if that means he can’t cum until he says? Eskel supposes he can wait. Humming in thought, he finally says, “Later.”

The look Jaskier gives him is absolutely predatory, especially in the fading light, but Eskel won’t take it back and ask for more right now. He wants to see where this will go, because really, following Jaskier’s leads have been _much_ more fun than immediate gratification. Even if it leaves his body frustrated. They both moan when Jaskier rocks down on his cock once, twice, and then pulls off. “You’re so _tempting_ , darling, but I’m ready to get the fuck out of my office for the next three days. I’m gonna pack up, you just sit here looking pretty, okay?”

Such an absurd compliment burns right through him, and that’s another thing he’s not sure how he could ever possibly get used to. Gorgeous, pretty, handsome, beautiful, precious, a good boy, Jaskier’s sweetheart, his darling, _perfect_. All words that he would never use to describe himself, but ones that flow so freely from his lover with nothing expected in return. The words sit under his skin and they spread through his veins and dig their way into his bones. 

Suspending his disbelief is hard, but how can he deny the gifts of affection from someone he feels like he’s known for eons? Why would Eskel reject the one good person in his life who seems just as terrified of falling so quickly?

Once Jaskier is all put together and packed up, and Eskel’s cock has softened enough to right his clothing, they tidy themselves and leave the warmth of Jaskier’s office. A quick stop to piss for them both, and they walk out of the mostly abandoned university building with Eskel carrying Jaskier’s backpack over one shoulder, wrapping his arm around his waist when they hit the cooler air of the evening. 

Dinner is ordered in, and when Eskel gets back in the house after tending to the goats, Jaskier has fallen asleep in front of the TV. He’s wearing Eskel’s clothes, his arm over the side of the couch with the remote slipping out of his grasp; his heart seizes up at the sight, and part of him doesn’t want to disturb him when he looks so peaceful. But, he carries him up to bed all the same, hushing him when he blearily wakes up as Eskel climbs into bed after a quick shower. 

The soft domesticity pushes that same pang of longing through his chest that he cannot seem to shake lately. Jaskier fits against him like he’s meant to be here with him, and really, the sheer relief of having finally found him is all Eskel can ever think about in these moments. For now, all he wants to do is rest while wrapped around someone he is sure he’s loved since the conception of the universe itself. Perhaps they are kindred spirits, and Jaskier _has_ always been inevitable. 

They will always find each other.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are a few things i want to say!!!! 
> 
> a) i love u all because you all say the nicest things and it makes me very :)!!! 
> 
> b) cw this chapter for a mild panic attack that does go pretty in depth. if you are prone to panic attacks, there is a decent amount of description of the physical symptoms from eskel's pov. so if you would rather avoid it and back out, here is your warning! 
> 
> c) [most importantly, i want you all to know that WHILE editing this chapter about eskel having a panic attack, earlier this very day 1/8/21 i received THE most cursed packidge from my bestie which contained a cardboard cutout of video game man eskel T-posing at me menacingly. okay so mind u i'm a lil h*gh rn and i'm listening to fleetwood mac and i look up and i just see this while i'm editing](https://twitter.com/slimejen/status/1347775392099299328?s=21)
> 
> d) [please peep this incredible vase i found while searching for vases to describe](https://twitter.com/slimejen/status/1347811028369891329?s=21)

Waking up is a slow, sweet process. Sometime during the night, they had gotten switched around without Eskel noticing, so the first thing he becomes aware of is the soft puff of warm air on his neck. The deep, even breaths of his lover, tucked up against his back with a firm arm around his waist. 

It’s the second time he's woken up like this with Jaskier, and it catches him just as off guard as it had the first time during the previous weekend he'd stayed the night. Now, though, Eskel doesn't tense up as much, rather, he keeps his eyes closed and enjoys the experience of being held. He doesn't have an alarm set, but he does have animals to dole out breakfast to. When he tries to get up, that's when Jaskier wakes up and demands he stay right where he is.

“You’re warm,” is all Jaskier has to say, voice thick with sleep while keeping him in place. After another indeterminable amount of time, Jaskier finally shifts and leans over to kiss Eskel on the cheek, squeaking when he turns over instead so they’re facing one another.

“Mornin’ to you too.” The sleepy smile Eskel gets does wonders to melt his heart. “Ready to let me outta bed yet?”

“No, what time is it?” Jaskier’s fingers curl atop Eskel's side, and he already knows he's lost the fight before it's even started. 

“Just before seven, but I should get outside before the goats start a riot.” They will, and they'll do it while they chew on the beams in the barn again. Right now? Eskel really doesn't care.

“But I missed a _whole night_ with you, I feel so cheated. You should've woken me uuuuup, why didn't you?”

“Because you took a stress nap on my lap yesterday, and then you fell asleep after fifteen minutes of watching the news by yourself,” Eskel says, even as Jaskier is pushing him onto his back and climbing atop his hips. Sometime during the night he lost the sweatpants, leaving Jaskier in just his stolen shirt instead—which, seeing Jaskier in his clothes? It makes him so goddamn hot he doesn't even know what to do with his energy. He’s more than sure they're still playing Jaskier’s game right now; _so what_ if he’s looking up at him while thinking lewd thoughts?

“It’s the _news_ , that'll put anyone to sleep in minutes. I was _fine_ , but I’ll still thank you for letting me sleep I _guess_ ,” he says with a mock huff, “I think I probably did need it, I didn't get much in the past few days. And before you grouse at me about that, I distinctly remember I owe you for being so good for me.” Jaskier gives him a devious look that only serves to make Eskel feel a bit breathless for just how gorgeous he looks tousled from sleep. 

His lover seated most comfortably atop him chooses now to grind down on his morning wood, more sensitive from the tease of the previous afternoon. Eskel has no idea how to ask for what he wants out of this, because it’s Jaskier’s reward to give. The shame of his own needs is too much to admit to with the gentle morning sunlight streaming in through the curtains, a fact that Jaskier seems to realize the longer Eskel’s mouth is shut. 

“You’re so pretty and pliant for me, and so patient too. Anyone else would have woken me up and fucked their reward from me, but not you. You wanted to be good and wait for it,” while he says it, he's lifted himself up enough to pull Eskel’s briefs down to his thighs, and he takes a few seconds to take his own boxers off completely, losing them beneath the sheets. 

Jaskier settles himself again on Eskel’s thighs, keeping just far enough away for a second for Eskel to try and suppress a shiver of need. “However, here is my dilemma,” Jaskier starts, leaning down with his hands pressed to the mattress at Eskel’s sides. “I have grades to input. I have to get it done by nine, meaning I’ve gotta start putting them in as soon as possible. You also have things to do that will require you getting up ASAP…” 

Eskel moans when Jaskier scoots his hips up so that he's sitting directly on top of Eskel’s cock, nestled just between his labia—it’s unfair that he slides himself up the length before grinding in place. Jaskier reaches between them, tilting Eskel’s chin up to meet his eyes, nearly making his heart burst from his chest with how hard it leaps. “So that means that only one of us gets to come right now. I don't mind if you choose yourself since you've been so good for me.”

Jaskier tilts his chin to the side and then uses his knuckle to tip his chin back down, Eskel obediently following his lead. It’s hard to speak for a second with Jaskier squirming atop his cock, slowly grinding up his shaft and back down just as leisurely. His balls _ache_ , and yet he finds himself asking, “Can I eat you out?”

“You don't want me to suck your cock instead? Don't want to fuck my mouth and see how far down your cock I can go? I love how you feel on my tongue, and I love how you taste too. You've also earned it, don't you want your reward?” Eskel groans again, hips squishing up against Jaskier’s, trying to ignore himself with little success. “There’s no right or wrong answer, just to be clear.”

And yet Eskel still feels there is a wrong one here, at least, there's an option for immediate gratification alongside an option that’s going to be way more fun if he waits. So he chooses the more fun one, full well knowing he’s going to suffer for it. “Later, I've been dyin’ to get my mouth on you since yesterday.”

“Oh _have_ you?” Jaskier gives him a sly little look before bending down to kiss him. A fleeting press of their lips while Jaskier moves his hips again. That's when Eskel finally finds the strength to grab Jaskier by the thighs to roll them over, making his lover squeak his surprise. 

“Wanted to pin you down and fuck you the whole time yesterday,” Eskel says as soon as he’s settled Jaskier down onto his back and kicked the comforter down enough to not get them both tangled in it. 

“You could have,” Jaskier says, wrapping his legs around Eskel’s hips and pulling him in for a kiss. It's slow and soft and sweet, his lover’s fingers scratching against the fine hair at the back of his neck. Such a casual little gesture that makes Eskel feel a little like he's melting, humming against Jaskier’s lips before he has to break apart and tuck his face into his neck. “You okay, darling?”

Yes? No. Perfect, maybe, in the face of an unrestrained affection that radiates from Jaskier as intensely as Eskel's feelings have sat in his chest. It has to be love, shaking his foundations and pulling the air from his lungs before he can take a full breath. Humming again, Eskel kisses beneath Jaskier’s jaw, down to his throat. He scrapes his teeth gently over soft flesh, careful now since he’s discovered Jaskier tends to bruise like a peach.

Jaskier’s fingers move on to gently digging his thumbs into the back of Eskel’s neck, pushing against pressure points that makes him stop his exploration for a second. Head lain down on Jaskier’s chest, over his shirt, Eskel closes his eyes and lets Jaskier’s hands roam without comment. The way his hands slip over his shoulders and back is less a massage and more memorization, it feels like. Being touched for the sake of touch itself; Eskel doesn't know if he could ever get used to it in the sense of not feeling like he's going to be overwhelmed by such a small thing. 

He always makes it easier, though, to exist in such a comfortable space with him. “You know… Before I met you, I wasn't really happy. I'm not saying you're a cure-all to how miserable I was, but all I have going for me is my tenure at the university. And don't get me wrong, I love being able to teach, and I'm good at it, but waking up day in and day out to what, twenty students who actually truly listen to what I have to say and around a hundred and fifty who think I’m the fun professor but they barely respect their educations enough to apply themselves? It's getting a little old.”

Jaskier pauses, searching for his words seemingly. He’s gone back to playing with the fine hair at the back of Eskel’s neck. “Six months ago I thought about taking a sabbatical. I almost did, I even filled out the paperwork for it, aaaand I didn't submit it. I hated myself a little bit for it because I am _so tired_ , but if I had? I wouldn't have met you.” Pressed so close to his chest, Eskel can feel his heart hammering away, and he can feel it too when Jaskier swallows nervously. “You make me want to write poetry and music again, and I thought I lost that sort of inspiration around the time I sold my soul to academia. I dunno, you can ignore this as early morning rambling if you want, but I guess I just want you to know I’m happy when I’m with you. You make me happy.”

Every good feeling that could bloom in his chest, does, overwhelmingly so. Jaskier’s hands have stilled, but the nervous energy about him makes his fingers twitch, prompting Eskel to pick his head up and look at him. He looks far too vulnerable for Eskel to ever entertain the thought of brushing him off and calling it early morning pillow talk. “You make me happy too,” his voice is much rougher with the struggle of his emotions threatening to overflow. Being emotional in _itself_ is something he's never been good at grappling with, and it certainly hasn't been encouraged. There is so much that Eskel doesn't know how to voice yet, but Jaskier’s patience with him is appreciated sorely. 

There is a lull where they look at each other for a moment too long to bear—Jaskier looks almost fragile under his gaze. Eskel wraps his arms around Jaskier’s back after pushing his hands underneath him, and he leans back in for a kiss that makes him feel mushy on the inside. Jaskier breaks it to wet his own lips before pushing back up against Eskel’s mouth with a quiet moan when they slide together. 

It would be so easy to slip his cock into Jaskier right now, fuck him hard and fast and empty himself inside him; it’s all Eskel can think when his lover’s tongue traces the scarring on the corner of his lips. It would be so easy to keep him in bed all day, take him up on the offer to fuck his mouth. Ultimately, their self imposed schedule doesn't really mean much—the farmer’s market is weekly and it's indoors, grades can wait, animals can wait, the whole _world_ can wait. But, a pitcher of sunflowers _will_ look gorgeous on the kitchen table, they won't have to interrupt themselves later for Jaskier to do an hour’s worth of work, he'd rather not have a goat riot, and with _his_ world pressed up against him, Eskel is absolutely helpless. 

More than all of those reasons, Eskel wants to be good for him. He wants to follow all of his directions, and he wants to be praised and cherished and _loved_ for it. Eskel has never felt so desired by a person, not like this. Not wholly and completely, to the point Eskel feels like his heart is safe in Jaskier’s hands too. What a terrifying state to exist in, one where Eskel is ready to open himself back up again after his last relationship. 

This time on his way down, Eskel is not so gentle with his kisses and nips of his teeth on Jaskier’s neck; every part of him wants to stake his claim on the person he is sure he loves. He wants there to be zero doubt to anyone that so much as looks at Jaskier who he belongs to. Eskel’s efforts are rewarded with a pretty moan when he sucks a mark onto Jaskier’s throat, nipping down to his collar before he has to disentangle their limbs so he can push up the T-shirt he's wearing. 

Again, recognizing Jaskier is wearing his clothes makes him feel close to _rabid_. Like if Eskel doesn't keep himself in check, he will froth at the mouth and push Jaskier down and claim him. As much as he wants to please him, as much as he wants his approval and validation and to be wanted just as fiercely, Eskel wants to have him on a deep level he's not sure he fully understands yet. 

His lips move down to Jaskier’s chest, sucking one of his nipples into his mouth. Jaskier hums and threads his fingers through Eskel’s hair with one hand and plays with his other nipple with the free one. Eskel reaches between them to palm at Jaskier’s cunt, grinding the heel down; he takes his time, teasing Jaskier as his mouth finally moves on to kissing down his lover’s chest and to his stomach. He keeps at it, kissing over Jaskier’s stomach and the tops of his thighs while gently rubbing over his bare cunt—his lover _whines_ , and his hips try to push up against Eskel's hand.

Finally, he takes pity on him (after Jaskier pushes impatiently on the top of his head), moving his mouth down to lick up between his labia while making eye contact. Eskel moans while Jaskier bucks up against his mouth, falling back against the pillows and getting comfortable. He gets right to work, not bothering to tease him for too long since time is apparently of the essence. It’s _hard_ not to lay there and shove his tongue into Jaskier’s pussy and never leave, Gods, his taste alone has Eskel feeling even needier. 

Eskel’s fingers join in thrusting into Jaskier while he wraps his mouth around Jaskier’s dick and sucks—that was another thing Eskel hadn't known until he’d asked, why his clit is so _big_. Not that it makes a difference to how hot he thinks his partner is, he just hadn't _known_ that replacement hormone use usually caused growth like that. Then again, Eskel will be the first one to admit that there is a definite learning curve to dating a trans person and re-examining how he navigates his own gender thoughts. 

“ _Fuck_ , just like that.” Whining and shaking as Eskel’s fingers curl up inside him, Jaskier’s hands move to cup his own tits, pinching and rolling his nipples while Eskel doubles down on his efforts. Eskel’s fingers come out from inside and he switches places with himself, shoving his tongue _deep_ and groaning. Slick fingers take hold of Jaskier’s clit, jerking him off slow and steady, in rhythm with his tongue’s thrusting. 

There has never been a need to examine his own gender, because the label of ‘man’ fits. Everything about his appearance and the way he handles himself is male, the mark on his license being a non-issue. [Something that fit well enough though has felt like a brand lately, an irritating mark that has been stamped into his skin repeatedly. The longer he spends with Jaskier, the more a wound he hadn't known existed makes itself apparent. Like scratching your scalp and picking off a scab that you thought the whole time was just a weird little rough lump.] Something inside feels like it is curiously peeking its head above ground, waiting to be noticed and nurtured even if it's scared of recognition. 

Eskel can feel the tension coiling in him, Jaskier unashamedly moaning loudly. His thighs are shaking on either side of Eskel’s head until finally they're squeezing his skull while Jaskier cums on his tongue. He keeps his mouth and his fingers moving while his lover writhes on the bed with praises falling from his lips. And _how_ that praise seeps into Eskel’s skin, warming him from the inside out to know how pleased he’s made Jaskier. 

He doesn't stop, lifting Jaskier’s hips up so he can get closer at a better angle, _thriving_ on the little squeak he makes. There’s drool and slick both running down his chin and to his neck, but it's not nearly uncomfortable enough to pull him away from trying to drag a second orgasm from Jaskier. Eskel’s tongue goes deep inside again, shoving his fingers in alongside it before moving the tip up to drag across his gorgeous dick; Jask quivers, and he squirms, and he _wails_ so pretty for him. Always so goddamn _lovely_ the second time he cums. 

One last little filthy kiss over Jaskier’s cunt earns him a pained groan, “If you keep going, I’m gonna die.”

“It’s a good thing I’m about to get up then,” Eskel says, chuckling when Jaskier grabs onto his shoulders to pull him up. Neither of them seem to care that Eskel wipes his chin and neck off on Jaskier’s stolen shirt.

“We’re sleeping in tomorrow, I don't care if the goats stage a coup, I’ll fight them all off.” He whines then, quiet and miserable, and it's almost enough to make Eskel consider staying in bed longer. “You’re warm, and I’m cold, and I know I’m the one who wants to keep to our schedule, but I could sleep for another six hours if I wanted to.”

“How ‘bout this? I’ll go check on them, you take a shower and warm up, and I’ll make breakfast so you can get a head start on putting your grades in.” That was Eskel’s plan anyway, though… “As tempting as it is to lay here for another six hours with my mouth on you.”

“Temptress, _evil_ , how dare you. An alluring succubus, here to steal my soul. You like my taste that much baby?” Paired with Jaskier’s fingernails scratching lightly just behind his ear, Eskel involuntarily shudders. “You’re adorable,” he finishes, leaving Eskel feeling boneless. 

But if he gets comfortable, he won't get up, so Eskel bites the bullet and rises up from where he is laying atop Jaskier so he can get out of bed. Not without bending in for a peck. Or two. Or—”I’m going—,” …three. One more for good luck, and a final one because Jaskier pouts and tugs him back in.

Finally free from bed, Eskel makes quick work of getting dressed, minus Jaskier heckling him to strip and come back under the covers. Thankfully, the goats have not rioted, and he has an easy time of it even if specifically Lil Bleater is a terror about trying to eat his jacket. By the time he gets back in the house, Jaskier is sitting at the kitchen table bundled up in one of Eskel’s winter sweaters and with the throw blanket from the couch on his shoulders. Already in front of his laptop and with a stack of papers in front of him looking like he might fight them at any given moment. 

Eskel drops a kiss to his still damp hair as he passes to the fridge. “Cold?”

“As someone who regularly stands in front of a burning hot forge for work, you're not?”

“Never said that.” Chuckling quietly, he takes stock of what he’s got for breakfast, coming up short for much. “I should've gone shopping,” Eskel sighs before picking up the egg carton. “Poached eggs?”

“Ohhhhh I _love_ poached eggs, but I’m gonna pass on them. I’m kind of queasy, for which I’m blaming,” Jaskier pauses to scrutinize the next paper he picks up from the pile, “...students like Kyle Jankowski. Actually, no, that's not fair to him, he just beat leukemia six months ago so he gets a pass. Sarah Watson though? On my ‘makes me nauseous at the breakfast table’ list.”

The egg carton gets put back down, “Okay, no eggs, nothing heavy… I think the avocado is still good and I’ve got the last of the sourdough from the loaf I made last week.”

“Avocado toast? How are you _ever_ gonna afford a house in this economy?” 

“Ohhh no, I’m bankrupting myself on avocados, me, in this house I’ve lived in for almost fifteen years where I’m maybe five years from paying off my thirty year mortgage because I’ve been fiscally responsible,” Eskel says, putting a tremor in his voice just to hear Jaskier laugh, and he's not disappointed.

“How will you ever support me leeching off you now?”

“You can always hire me to be your chair—I could do that for a few hours a day, wasn't so bad.”

“You almost _died_ , sweetheart,” Jaskier says offhandedly, engrossed in his typing while Eskel laughs from where he's at in front of the cabinet. “So is this where the professor/student role play comes in? Because if I’m your sugar daddy now, I have some _terrible_ news about how much you think I make on salary, you naughty, sexy little unigirl. I’m on unpaid overtime.”

“Unigirl makes it sound like I’m on a unicycle or I have a unibrow, and I don’t have either of those.” Grabbing a bowl, Eskel sets to work splitting and pitting the avocado while he talks, scraping the insides out before heading back to the fridge.

“Well I’m not into the sexy little _school_ girl thing, sounds a touch creepy—my thing is the whole power dynamic of the naive second year wearing a flowy, knee length skirt wanting to submit to her hot professor. And I would _love_ to see you in a tiny little skirt riding my dick, that’d be lovely.” Jaskier is still speaking in the same distracted, low tone; the power his words hold over Eskel is _phenomenal_.

Bent at the waist in front of the open fridge, Eskel sputters and nearly drops the bulb of garlic he’s holding, “What?” He can already feel the flush in his face, a hot flash of embarrassment flooding through his whole nervous system. After a beat of silence and taking far too long of a moment imagining it, he says, “I’d look terrible.”

Jaskier’s chair scrapes across the floor from the force of him pushing himself out of it, indignation dripping from his voice, “Oh I _know_ you didn't just imply you couldn't work a skirt and that you think I’m _wrong_. Do you know how fucking hot you’d look?” Eskel makes another flustered sound involuntarily when Jaskier’s hands grab onto him, one on his hip and the other grabbing hold of his jeans from the top, at his lower back—Jaskier thrusts his own hips forward, bumping them against Eskel’s ass. “Gods, if you were wearing one right now, I’d flip it up and slip my cock inside you, fuck you right against the counter. I bet you'd make such pretty noises too,” he says with another few thrusts of his hips against Eskel while he remains motionless.

Imagining it, this time Eskel _does_ drop the garlic, the bulb bouncing along the floor while he tries to do _anything_ but let go of the whimper stuck in his throat. If he’s honest with himself, he’s thought about Jaskier fucking him with his strap more often than necessary; it’s certainly been frequently on the top of his jackoff material checklist. It hadn't been his first rodeo with anal, but Eskel had never felt so taken apart in so little time in his life. And Jaskier had been a stranger then, so now? He doubts he would survive.

“What else?” Eskel’s voice is rough, but _fuck_ does he want to know. 

Jaskier takes a deep breath and fits his hips right up to Eskel, getting as close as he can. “I’d rip your shirt open and play with your tits while you're struggling to stand. I’d pull your hair and make you arch your back and I’d cum so deep in you you’ll be leaking all day thinking of my cock inside you. Fuck you so full you won't be able to think of anything else but me. Maybe I’d plug you up so I could fuck you again hours later, maybe I'd eat my cum out of you…” Jaskier trails off while tugging on the top of his jeans, reaching around to palm at Eskel’s cock.

This time, Eskel can't keep back the soft little needy noise in his throat, pushing back against his lover. The fridge kicks on in front of him, reminding him of his avocado sitting on the countertop, oxidizing slowly. He feels frozen in place by Jaskier’s touch, throat now dry and pulse racing through his veins. Jaskier squeezes his dick through his jeans one more time before letting go, feeling the weight of him draped on his back. “You do make pretty noises,” Jaskier whispers right into his ear before dropping a kiss under the lobe, making Eskel shiver.

“And you’re a tease,” he finally manages to say, reaching into the fridge for the last of his radishes and the bottle of lime juice before closing the door and turning around. Jaskier looks pleased with himself, and definitely smug. “I’d still look terrible.”

“First of all, I have impeccable taste, so I _know_ you’d look good. Second, you’re the one that wanted to cum later, so don’t complain.” Jaskier sticks his tongue out at him, and goes back to his chair and moves the blanket off his shoulders so he can put it over his lap when he sits down, trying in vain to wiggle himself closer without moving too much. 

As soon as Eskel picks up his garlic bulb, he juggles his items and gently hip checks the chair on his way back to the counter. “Where would we even find a skirt that fits me anyway? Also, I’m not complaining, but you’re definitely not making this easy on me.”

“I’m an inconvenience on sunny days—“

“It’s cloudy outside.”

Hmphing, Jaskier continues, “—and an angel on cloudy days.”

“Might wanna look into switching those around.” Now, he can finally get to work with making breakfast— _the bread_. Walking back to the fridge, he opens it up so he can get the heel of bread he’s pretty sure he can get at least three slices out of. 

“No. And I am six hundred percent positive we could find a skirt for you—if not I’m sure we can make one. I’m speaking from experience, skirts are great, like besides easy access to fuck around with, they're fun to wear. I like the swishy.” He’s back to typing, doing his work reluctantly by the look of it when Eskel turns to glance at him.

It sounds ridiculous, and it feels ridiculous to think it _sounds_ ridiculous, but Eskel can't shake the perturbed feeling in his chest. It’s not necessarily a negative feeling, not when he knows at least Jaskier is serious about what he's saying. And anyway since when has Eskel ever cared what people think of him? Not overtly, not with his scars that stretch along his cheek and over his lip. Maybe on darker nights when he’s been alone and upset with nobody to reach out to, or when his last relationship ended so sourly. But this feels like something different entirely, because now Jaskier is in his life and he’s a bright spot that Eskel never wants to lose. 

It’s scary, thinking about the depth of his feelings, and thinking about gender perceptions, and about anything, really. And that is _astounding_ to him, to have found something that he is so out of his comfort zone with, to be encouraged to push his own boundaries and to be loved while doing it. If that's what Jaskier still feels; the same deep well of pure sentiment, a gut reaction that this is real. Eskel still can't explain how he seems to just _know_ things, or how Jaskier does the same psychic mind reading ‘I know you like this, so...’ thing that is making them so in tune with each other. 

The uncanny feeling, the deja vu that seems to silently happen to them both at times, almost like they really have done this before. Some variation somewhere, somehow, makes itself known in little ways, and Eskel has to wonder if there is some kind of reincarnation or parallel universe bullshit at play here. Maybe on the eighth plane of existence, in another dimension, they’re both magical beings who are meddling with the current Jaskier and Eskel here. Maybe there’s some kind of inter-dimensional soap opera puppeteering script at play here, or it’s a weird predetermined simulation that they're being put through.

...Dissociating at his kitchen counter with a half mashed avocado isn’t helping though, actually. 

By the time he's done toasting the bread and spreading the avocado mash topped with sliced radish and feeling like he’s going to ascend out of his physical form and into another galaxy altogether, Jaskier looks like he's made decent progress with his work, at least, the pile looks smaller than when he started. His quiet typing and the flipping of pages is very good at grounding Eskel, if he's honest. Something quiet to focus on to bring himself back from his own private existential hell that he's spent many minutes smoldering around in. 

“Want coffee?”

“Oh, uh, nah, I’m sticking to my uh… tea cleanse and trying to cut out caffeine since I’ve been drinking way too much lately,” Jaskier takes a breath and looks up at him again, “Got any juice?”

“Like a quarter glass of cranberry.”

“Why even leave it in there? Old man.”

“ _Hey_ ,” Eskel says with a faux hurt chuckle, “So what if I water down my juice?”

“So that you can't taste anything?”

“I have sensitive taste buds, not my fault yours are ruined.” He still grabs the bottle from the fridge so he can make himself some juice _just like he likes it_ , but Eskel is nice and puts the kettle on the stove burner and turns it on. “Oh, speaking of, I ordered some more tea from that one place you like. You’re down to the last like two cups in the bag you left here.”

“You did? You did _not_ have to do that.” Jaskier sounds genuinely shocked, and he even looks it when Eskel finally brings the plates over to the table. 

And maybe Eskel is feeling particularly sappy after jumping out of a complex spiraling internal monologue wormhole, so what? He cups Jaskier’s cheek and bends down to give him a peck, lingering for a moment while his heart sticks in his throat. When he pulls back, there’s the smallest tinge of pink on Jaskier’s cheeks that nearly incapacitates Eskel. “I like making you tea, that a crime?”

“You being gay is about four seconds from being a crime.” Before he can get too far away, Jaskier turns in his chair and reaches up to drape his arms on Eskel’s shoulders, tugging him back in for another kiss; this one is mostly lips, but with the shyest peak of tongue that retreats immediately and leaves Eskel wanting. His lover’s fingers again find their way to gently scratching through the hair at the back of his neck, such a small little gesture that makes Eskel nearly shake every time. “Here I am talking about my very sudden and extremely genuine fetish for fucking you with a skirt on like I’m Ja-Grool and you're my sensual little Ashænti and we’re in the music video for Mesmerizing, now you’re out here buying me tea?”

Is it a thinly veiled suggestion that Eskel wants Jaskier around? Perhaps. Even though they haven't actually spent a lot of time together in the past couple of months, the difference he makes is incredible. But the words are difficult to say out loud without choking up, so thoughtful gestures will have to do for the moment. “Mhm, I am.”

“You’re too good to me,” Jaskier whines out before letting Eskel go. “And this looks like it belongs on a Pincherest board,” he says, bringing the plate closer. 

“I failed home-ec when I was 17 because I didn’t do the dumb little homework packet the teacher handed out on the first day and never mentioned again, but I was the only person who knew what they were doing when it came to the actual baking.” He can hear the kettle finally starting to heat up, and he remembers he hasn't actually gotten anything for Jaskier’s tea ready, so he busies himself with that. He grabs the mug and the bag of loose tea and the little mesh ball.

“You keep telling me about all of your practical skills and I’m never gonna leave.” With his back turned, Eskel only hears the crunch of toast, and he stays still while he waits for… “Okay actually I’m just not leaving.” 

The muffled, quiet moan around food tells Eskel all he needs to know about if this breakfast offering is to Jaskier’s tastes, so maybe Eskel feels more smug than necessary in a completely enamored with and validated by his lover kind of way. That's when the kettle starts making noise though, so Eskel takes it off the burner, letting it rest for a few minutes so the tea doesn't get scalded by the water being a smidge too hot. 

Measuring (approximating) out tea into the ball is a cathartic little ritual that Eskel is starting to appreciate more and more each time he does it. Closing the ball and lowering it into the cup, he hangs the catch on the side of the mug; waiting for a few minutes while he crunches on his own toast, and then the water gets poured. It’s an easy process, and it's a way for Eskel to make his feelings known without saying them out loud. The warm mug gets placed on the table next to Jaskier, and the little closed mouth smile he gets makes every bit of anxiety worth it. 

Jaskier finishes his work with enough time to spare for Eskel to sit him up on the counter next to the sink while he does the few dishes from the morning, leaning over for kisses periodically. A short lived little moment before they go upstairs after Jaskier packs his laptop away so they can get dressed; he’s all business, Jaskier, that is, stealing one of Eskel’s flannels to tuck into a pair of leggings and not even stopping to tease him. He has a one track mind, and it is on the sunflowers. 

Luckily, they are early enough to the market that even though it’s only been open for a few minutes, the sunflower lady has set up her table already, and they are the first there. Jaskier immediately sets to work finding the perfect set while Eskel wanders off to the next stall where he _actually_ knows the person there. A fellow swordsmith and guy who does replica armor, but he also has a budding business selling homegrown herbs and spices. 

Haren Brogg raises his hand in greeting, “H-hey Eskel, how’s it going?”

“It’s going,” he says, looking over his stock. “Same as usual, trying to finish up some of the more detailed commission stuff I’ve got going on so I can ship it out for Yule orders.”

“Yeah, I k-know that, been trying to get mine done t-too.”

Many people think custom blade work is the perfect gift for their loved ones around this time of year, and they’re all _correct_. He’s been working hard days and nights all week to try and catch up on his orders, especially since this entire weekend had been blocked off to spend with Jaskier. Usually, he wouldn’t care much for a bank holiday making a long weekend, but this time is much different. He has Jaskier staying with him, and there isn’t enough time as it is to spend with him without work hanging over them both.

Picking up a packet of sage and a bundle of thyme, Eskel takes out his wallet and digs the cash out. Jaskier, looking extremely self satisfied, walks up just as he hands the money over. He has a bundle of sunflowers in his arms that do in fact look gorgeous. “Told you I’d get the best ones. Can I get your keys so I can go run these to the truck?” Unclipping them from the belt loop at his hip, Eskel hands them over, and Jaskier is quick to disappear. 

“Friend of yours I’m guessing?” Haren asks, looking off to where Jaskier had gone toward the exit. “Haven't seen them before.”

“Could say that.” It’s… not really _complicated_ , but Eskel still doesn't know what they actually are yet. So, friends it is, especially to a different, casual friend. “We met at the Skelligan medieval conference, he’s a professor at Oxenfurt.”

“Huh, n-no shit.” 

Another customer walks up with a question then, so Eskel bids his farewell and puts his purchase into his tote bag, heading on to the next stall. Eskel ends up meandering around in the same area until Jaskier comes back, his arrival announced by an arm wrapping around his waist. “I almost fought a bitch named Jessamine with highlighter yellow hair, she walked up two seconds after you left and the owner greeted her by name.”

Warmth spreads through his chest as a snicker bubbles up out of him, and he leans into Jaskier a little bit. “That justified you fighting her?”

“It was the _look_ she gave me. Like she was going to rip my hair out the moment I grabbed my batch of sunflowers. She knew I’d picked the best ones and held herself back just barely from breaking my neck, I am _sure_. But _anyway_ , I won, Jessamine can get the leftovers, aaaaand I’m ready to not fight people. What are we looking at?”

Jaskier is looking up at him through his eyelashes, and Eskel is looking into those gorgeous blue eyes that make his heart skip a beat when he realizes he's been caught staring. Eskel gets a kiss pressed to his jaw for it though, a soft little smile ending up on Jaskier’s face; he has to wonder if he could possibly feel any more mushy than he does right now, not even caring that they're in public. “I don't know.” 

“I appreciate the honesty.” Jaskier steps away then, lightly scratching at Eskel’s back with his fingernails as he does it, looking at the table of soap in front of them before moving on.

They go through a few booths of highly specific knickknacks, Jaskier picking up a few things as Yule presents for some friends. A set of rainbow resin coasters, a box of tarot cards, an art print, a letter opener shaped like a duck… mostly small, fun things that he has no doubt will be appreciated by their recipients. In the same vein, Eskel also does some of his holiday shopping early, picking up some fun little things for his family.

“Ohhhhh is that nail polish?” A few tables later, Jaskier stops and admires the seller’s wares. Eskel is still looking at skeins of homespun sheep’s wool yarn when his attention is dragged across the aisle between stalls. “Eskel, pick a color!”

Confused, two different colors of yarn in each hand, for a second he thinks Jaskier means for him to hurry up with his decision on what color yarn is going to look good on his next sweater for his little terror of a favorite goat. “I dunno?” 

“Just like, any color. What's your favorite color?”

“Red, I guess?” He doesn't have red in his hand, but Bleats isn't a red kinda gal. At least, not a solid red, maybe some details..? So many decisions to make in so little time, so Eskel pushes this color crisis to the side just long enough to pick a nice, vivid yellow. Not quite a bright mustard, definitely darker, and also a deep, emerald green to go with it for edge designs and detailing. Maybe not the most conventional color combo, but the two colors look good next to each other. 

By the time Eskel’s critical yarn decision has been made, Jaskier has rejoined him looking very satisfied with himself. “Hey, so, what do you think about having a self care night? Like, face masks and a bath, all that…” 

“If that's what you wanna do, sure.” He watches the happiness blossom onto Jaskier’s face, and gods above _help_ him for how gay Eskel feels for it. Though, he does also instantly remember he’ll have to scrub the bathroom down. “I’m gonna have to clean the tub when we get home though, don't let me forget.” 

“Oh, psh,” Jaskier makes the sound and waves his hand, “Don't worry about that, this was my nefarious plan all along and before I went down for breakfast I filled the tub and poured some of the vinegar under the sink in to let it soak for a few hours. It’s already half done.” 

“You did?”

“Well, can't exactly plan on taking a bath with you without the tub being clean, sooooo, yeah.”

Walking along again and skipping over a few uninteresting tables as they head toward the less-crowded back of the indoor market before they loop around to the front, Eskel feels like he might combust, almost not believing how thoughtful such a small thing like that is. It takes a second for his brain to catch up with him, that gay feeling getting near overwhelming. Potentially fatal. “Wait, did you say _with_ me?”

“Yeah, your tub is _huge_ , it'd be a crime not to take a bath together,” Jaskier says easily while he stops to look at a table where the person behind it is reading a book, [multicolored tubes] scattered in bins on the tabletop. “I brought a couple of bath bombs from home too, we can use whatever one you want.” 

It's true that his tub is big, and really, it’s because Eskel has always been a bath person. When he got his house, the first thing he did was renovate the bathroom, and with it installed a tub actually big enough to fit him. Regardless, most of the time he’ll take showers because it's less time consuming, but if he _does_ have the time? Eskel will take a bath, especially on those hot summer midnights where he feels like cooling down in a cold bath lights off with a candle lit and the window wide open. Maybe if he’s feeling fancy, he’s been known to put some bubbles in the tub, but that’s pretty much the extent of it. But apparently Jaskier had been planning this for a while, which does all sorts of things to make him feel soft.

So wrapped up in his thoughts, he doesn't notice Jaskier has purchased something else until his arm is being grabbed and he's being led away from there. And it’s not until he notices Jaskier has found an out of the way, hidden little spot behind some tables and a wall of plastic totes toward the back of the building that he really comes back to reality. Jaskier’s put their stuff down on the floor next to their feet, and then his arms are wrapped around Eskel’s neck.

“You’re more distracted than usual, are you okay?” An honest question with concern in those boundless blue eyes. 

Besides feeling like his heart is going to beat out of his chest constantly? The blissful butterflies flying around and making him feel like he's walking on air? “Yeah… I dunno, probably? Uh, that I’m distracted…” Taking a breath, he leans against the wall he’s been backed up against, tentatively putting his arms around Jaskier. The words are hard to say, but he plucks up the courage. “I guess I’m trying to get used to this? I’m happy with you, and,” another breath, and it feels like he’s losing his steam. “I dunno…”

Jaskier is patient with him, at least, stroking the back of his neck and playing with the hair there. It's such a familiar gesture now that Eskel can feel himself relaxing on instinct, grateful when he says, “I’m happy with you too.”

“You feel familiar,” he starts, unsure how he wants to articulate this, because the idea is so foreign to him in the first place. “Like I’ve known you forever. Meeting you felt like a bizarre fever dream, but here we are…” Trying to make it work, and Eskel _wants_ it to work. There are so many weird coincidences of knowledge and preferences that neither of them should know about each other, but they keep coming up. 

“I think I know what you mean. I won't lie, you really were a hot stranger who I wanted to rail me, but being with you feels uncanny, like I knew you before.” Eskel can see the nervous look on Jaskier’s face, as if this is just as hard for him, which puts his nerves to bed a little bit more at least. 

Tugging him closer, Eskel’s arms wrap around his waist tighter, rubbing at the small of his back. “That's it… uncanny. But not in a bad way…” And maybe he swoons for the smile Jaskier gives him, heart beating hard in his chest. He doesn't say how Jaskier feels like coming home every time they're together, he's not ready to articulate that, but he feels it when he gets a kiss. 

It’s a soft, sweet thing that ends a little too soon for Eskel’s tastes. “Now, you’re more than a hot stranger that I want to rail me. You’re a hot person that I want to rail me and that I want to kiss a lot and get to know better. And I wanna have a self care night tonight where you let me take care of you.”

That maddeningly fuzzy feeling persists, and he can feel his scars stretch with his smile. A genuine thing that he doesn't attempt to hide, not when he feels like he might disintegrate the longer Jaskier rubs at that spot at the back of his neck. “You’re gonna spoil me, and I’m never gonna let you leave.” 

“Good.” Leaning forward into a kiss feels like a litany of sappy feelings and emotions and words for the few seconds it lasts, even if Eskel would be hard pressed to name them. When Jaskier pulls back, he says, “We’ll figure out what this is between us eventually, but for now, does that sound good?”

Being taken care of? It sounds unrealistic at first, because really… nobody has ever said that to him, not out loud. If anything, Eskel is the one that has taken care of everyone who’s been in his life, always. It's a different story to be a son, but when he's had to be the responsible brother or the doting lover or the self-sacrificing husband, there’s been little time to care for himself. He has always made sure everyone else’s comfort comes before his own under almost every circumstance. 

And the decision to be alone—that he isn't meant for love or relationships beyond something casual that eventually fizzles out—has ruled the cage he's built around himself with an iron fist for so long that Eskel has stopped shaking the bars. And there is nothing wrong with that, deciding to keep to himself and become a hermit to the world. In his loneliness he has found the strength to cultivate his interests free of judgement and with only himself to answer to. 

Finding a genuine happiness with himself has been a process, and he _knows_ that he wasn’t broken for wanting to find his peace while alone—that Jaskier isn't some sort of cure-all for his loneliness that has come down from parted clouds. Yet he had appeared out of thin air with the key to his self-imposed jail cell, a complicated and jagged, one of a kind imprint that fits in the lock like it always has. The cell is open, and it’s Eskel’s job to either choose to slam the cage back shut and take the key, or come out to Jaskier’s waiting arms and nurture whatever is growing between them. 

Something that shouldn't be an agonizing decision, but oh does it _hurt_. In every way. Every good way, and every bad way while he spends a half of a second mourning his past for having not known even an ounce of the same compassion that Jaskier gives so freely and without expectations placed on Eskel. Saying no or saying he wants to do something else would be to avoid letting his guard down so that Jaskier might not see him for who he is, and in that, keep himself safe from hurt by being disappointing to him. 

It’s not some do-or-die scenario, not remotely, and Eskel feels a bit dumb for overthinking it so much, but his thought process leads him to the realization that he does want this. That for whatever reason, Jaskier is here with him, and he wants to spend time with him, and he wants to do nice things for him. And for continued mystical reasons, Eskel feels like the key has broken off in the lock of his self-imposed cage, never to be shut properly again. Not in this timeline, and not in this universe. 

“I’d like that, yeah.” 

Jaskier smiles again, and Eskel’s knees feel weak for it. “Great,” he sounds relieved, and looks relieved, and Eskel wonders if that took just as much out of him to reach toward him. “So… Are we just here to have a chat, orrrrr can I interest you in _anything_ else? Anything at all?”

Exhaling a quiet laugh, he squeezes Jaskier around the waist, resting his hands on his hips. “Anything?”

“I’ve been teasing you to death and back, and you really deserve at least _something_. I’m gonna start feeling bad soon about being mean to you about not letting you get off. So like do you want me to blow you? Let you fuck my face at the back of the farmer’s market?”

Just the mental image of that does a _lot_ for Eskel, but if he _actually_ does that? He’s not gonna be subtle, and they'll probably get caught, and he'd rather not do the walk of shame while getting kicked out of the marketplace. “Maybe I like a little bit of denial.”

Jaskier kisses at his jaw, and Eskel can feel him grinning before he says, “You shouldn't've told me that babe, I’m gonna be rude and use that against you.”

Eskel desperately tries to ignore the flash of pure serotonin at Jaskier using a cute nickname for him. “That'd be the point…” Tapering off into a hum, Eskel loses the plot a little when Jaskier’s arms slip down from Eskel’s neck to rest his hands on his hips, slipping his thumbs just inside the pockets of his jeans. 

“You wanna know what I’m gonna do to you later or do you want it to be a surprise?” It’s an innocent sounding question accompanied by Jaskier digging his thumbs into the soft flesh of where hips meet thighs through the thin material of Eskel’s pockets. “Because I have _plans_ for you later.”

The breathless feeling sitting at the top of his throat is intoxicating, hanging onto Jaskier’s words as he tries to piece it together himself from what little he has to go on. “I like surprises, but gimme a highlight reel.”

“Okay, well, I’m warning you now, I’m taking a nap when we get home so I don't fall asleep on you later, and I’d love it if you joined me. Buuuut, we’re having a girl’s night.”

Eskel cannot fathom what Jaskier possibly means by, “Girls night?” 

“Yes, and no I’m _not_ gonna elaborate since you want a surprise, so I’ll leave you to wonder what exactly I mean by that because I’m a jerk. But if you want something to look forward to, I’m gonna—” 

Very suddenly, someone crashes into the table next to them that's holding up part of the storage bin wall they're behind, causing them both to jump in tandem. The person on the other side has a very colorful string of ‘fucks' to declare while they hang around picking up the items they’ve dropped, leaving Eskel hanging and by the looks of it leaving Jaskier to get more and more frustrated that their private little moment has been interrupted. Really, this debacle is highlighting that Jaskier feels good in his arms, pressed against him like this. And if there is one thing that Eskel could possibly want right now, it'd be to get on his knees for him. 

Captain Butterfingers ends up dropping whatever they're holding _again_ , and Jaskier gets that little glare on his face that happens whenever something is causing him an inconvenience. So he takes the opportunity to put his face against Jaskier’s neck, inhaling deeply and relaxing while he exhales slow. He’s wearing another perfume, this one a little more subtle than the others, but all the same it suits him. 

Swaying with Jaskier with a slight shift of his stance, he murmurs into his neck, “What’re you gonna do to me sugar?”

Wrapped around him as much as he is with his arms around his lover’s waist, Eskel can feel the rigid shudder of Jaskier’s spine. The soft press of lips to Eskel’s neck is accompanied by thumbs digging into his pelvis again and a quiet, “Wouldn't you like to know?”

A _third_ time, their unwanted guest drops something, and Jaskier growls out loud in frustration before banging on the side of the plastic containers with his palm, “ **Hey** , do you fucking mind? I’m trying to comfort my inconsolable boyfriend over here because we just found out Gam Gam Lidia passed away and you’re really killing the vibe.”

Whatever short exchange happens with the other person is completely and utterly lost on Eskel, fixating on ‘boyfriend' and nothing else. It’s _funny_ and it's also going to make his heart beat out of his chest even with his shoulders shaking to keep in an incredulous laugh. One of Jaskier’s hands has migrated back up to his shoulder, then to the back of his neck, rubbing slow with his thumb. Eskel’s face is still buried in his neck and shoulder, so he misses it completely when the person peeks around the tower to apologize.

When it’s safe, Jaskier sighs, and Eskel snickers, and he _cannot_ help himself from asking, “Soooo, I’m your boyfriend?”

“Yeah uh, probably should have asked you that first before declaring it to a stranger, huh?” He sounds sheepish, but he continues, “But maybe we should clarify this for ourselves right now.”

“Are we really gonna start officially dating at the back of the fucking farmer’s market like a gay stereotype? Is that what we’re gonna have to tell people?” Finally pulling away, he can feel his scars stretching with his stupid grin, and Eskel could not care less how dumb he might look. 

“Well, I mean, _technically_ we’re both bi, so that makes it infinitely worse. There’s no coming back from being a stereotype now, we’re really just parodies of bi culture.” Jaskier bounces on his heels and takes a step back from Eskel, making a grab for his hands. “So is this it? I can call you my boyfriend now? Are we boyfriends? I think we are, I wanna be.”

Somehow, Eskel imagined it wouldn't go like this, that there would be some other roadblock to getting to this point, but Jaskier again is making it so easy for them to move forward. He plucks the words out of his mouth and tangibly grasps onto his emotions and feelings straight from his heart. “I want to be too,” the words almost feel stuck behind his chest constricting. “We are.” Jaskier lights up, and he laughs, and suddenly Eskel’s got an armful of boyfriend that is hell bent on kissing him. 

And maybe they spend a while longer kissing behind the storage space at the back of the farmer’s market, who is to say? And maybe Eskel crowds Jaskier up against the corner where bin meets wall—one hand is inside Jaskier’s borrowed flannel and the other shoving his leggings down so he can finger him from behind. 

Jaskier pants against his ear, head laid back on Eskel’s shoulder while whispering praise to him. Cradling Jaskier’s tit with his palm, pinching his hipple, jerking him off to completion. Jaskier’s knees wobble a little as Eskel cleans his fingers off. He wants him, and Eskel wants to be needed in return. 

They pick up their things and go down the other end of the market, Eskel breaking away to argue over a wholesale box of mixed vegetables with what looks like squishy potatoes on the bottom, but the vendor won't let him inspect the crate without purchasing it first. Jaskier wanders away to purchase some more things too, and they meet in the middle somewhere with Eskel carrying a crate of verified fresh vegetables on his hip and both of them with more bags on their arms than necessary. 

When they get back to the house, Jaskier gets a phone call while Eskel is bringing things in, so he smooches him on the side of the head and leaves him on the porch to take it. Putting things away is a long since learned routine by himself, but it gives him time to reflect on Jaskier holding his hand at red lights and how that is a new feeling for him to experience. Such a small gesture that makes him feel more cared for than he’s ever been.

The sunflowers though, he takes extra care in cutting the stems and getting the gaudy porcelain pitcher out from the top shelf of one of the cabinets. On their first real date, Jaskier bought him flowers, and the pitcher was the only thing he had even vaguely vase shaped to put them in when he’d got home. The last time flowers had been in his house, he'd bought them and they'd gone to waste, and the only vase he'd owned had been smashed against a wall by Lambert. To be _fair_ , they'd been cleaning out the house after his divorce and Eskel had always hated the cheap gradient paint on it.

So, the pitcher it is, and it is a _monstrosity_ that Eskel loves dearly, only pulled out for special occasions. It has a flamingo design, painted light shades of the iconic pink with surprisingly intricate detail shaped into the body of the pitcher. It’s laying in a bed of grass atop a blue base that gives it a floating on the lake look. The handle of the jug is the neck of the flamingo, with the head coming to rest atop the wings that tilt up to form the rim of the top, delicately ending with the spout. 

When Eskel hears the front door close finally, he’s filling up the pitcher halfway with water, which is when Jaskier walks into the kitchen and snorts. “Oh my _god_ , I love that.” Popping a half of a strawberry rhubarb pie down onto the counter (that they'd bought on their way out, as if the seller [accurately] assumed the temptation for an out of season delight would be too much to pass up), he comes over to the table and gingerly touches the neck handle. “I can't believe this exists, it’s incredible.”

“I picked it up at a yard sale a while back,” he says as he goes to grab for the flowers to take them out of their wrapping so he can put them in the water.

Jaskier grabs his hands and says, “Wait,” while looking at him, and there’s a moment where the sun hits him just right that Eskel could _swear_ he's felt this before. The swooning feeling in his chest and the sudden panic of thinking he doesn't deserve this overlapping when Jaskier gets in close to give him a smooch. They pull back, Jaskier sheepishly saying, “It’s good luck to put them in at the same time. ...I think. Can we?”

Being in his own home, subject to an idea so tender, this above all else makes him feel bare. Overwhelmed. But he still nods, and Jaskier smiles, and Eskel and him put the bundle of sunflowers in his hideous pitcher together. Remembering to breathe is hard, but as it turns out? Jaskier is right, they do look lovely on the kitchen table, the sun shining in just right through the window.

“Perfect!” Exclaimed with a quiet clap from Jaskier while Eskel moves over to the counter to shut the cabinet the pitcher came from _and_ take a breather.

Jaskier yawns a few moments later though, and Eskel takes a break from gripping the countertop, looking at the clock before he asks, “You still heading up for a nap?” It’s just past noon, so it's definitely not too late to. 

“Yeah, I’m kinda drained, so I’d rather get a nap in now.” He touches his hand to Eskel’s hip on his way around him to the sink and says, “Invitation is still open to join meeeee~”

“Go on up and get comfy, I’ll be up in a little bit.” He just wants to finish up putting his hard won vegetable crate out in the mud room at the back of the house where he does his cold weather food storage. And maybe leave the existential crisis here in the kitchen where it belongs. 

Jaskier stands there for a moment longer, wrapping his arms around his waist, making Eskel’s stomach jump into his throat. “Don't take too long,” he says, tapping his fingers over Eskel’s shirt over where his belly is a little soft. The feeling is… weird, not really _bad_ , but the gesture is so bafflingly loving. 

“Yeah, I’ll be up as soon as I’m done down here.” And that’s not a lie, he is feeling especially beat from today. Whether it’s a combination of being teased for the past day, or the market, or just his own emotions taking a rollercoaster ride into hell right now, Eskel could use some rest and a reset so he doesn’t drag down the mood by not holding himself together.

He leaves Eskel to it easily, Jaskier rubbing his cheek against his shoulder while letting go of his waist. Eskel tries not to get too sidetracked—a second to reorganize the vegetables turns into planning ahead meals mentally alongside the venison he has in the basement freezers. That, he can do. Meal planning is rational; after all, there are only so many months he can get cut off from civilization, and the later he runs out of supplies, the better. 

Taking stock of what he has, if it were just himself most of the time? He would be fine. But maybe it wouldn’t hurt to do a little more hunting before the snow starts coming in heavy. Once it starts setting in on this side of town, Eskel tends not to come out of hibernation until spring. He hasn’t had any reason to change his routine for years, anyway. 

“Maybe this year I’ll take Lambert up on fighting ‘that bitch mother nature’,” he mumbles to himself for no particular reason, finally feeling calm enough to go upstairs and keep his composure.

Locking the doors, Eskel takes his boots off before heading upstairs. When he gets there, the curtains are open, letting the midday light in. Jaskier has his legs half under the comforter, leaning up against the pillows while wearing one of his shirts and staring longly up at him. 

Jeans on the floor, Eskel climbs into bed, leaving the comforter draping just over his legs the same way as his boyfriend. Just _thinking_ it, Eskel isn’t sure if he’s ever going to get used to that. He wants to, but the feeling of it rolls around in his stomach with butterflies that border on giving him vertigo. He has to remind himself to breathe and be levelheaded. Maybe get a quick nap in.

The second he's close enough, Jaskier crowds into his space, “I'm so glad you want a nap too because it's mostly that i'm really cold right now and you are so warm and I wanna hold you—” Eskel gets bodily moved to lay onto his side, making his heart jump into his throat again. Jaskier’s arm snakes under Eskel’s elbow, wrapping around his waist before he slumps completely against his back. 

“You sure you're okay Jask?” Eskel asks while looking back over his shoulder, feeling more than seeing him push his face against the center of his back. Even if he’s having his own shaky thoughts right now, he still holds his concern close.

“Mm, just need to recharge,” comes the muffled reply. “I’m just tired, I’ll be fine when I wake up.”

So, Eskel trusts that he is fine for now, though he keeps his concern close in case Jaskier needs something.

With the warm afternoon light streaming in and Jaskier breathing gradually more evenly at his back, Eskel tries to relax, but it's tough to let himself just _stop_ long enough to actually rest. Earlier, a nap sounded so good, and so pleasant. Maybe it's hard to relax because he's not used to unwinding so thoroughly? Really, when Eskel is alone, he’s up from sunup to sundown, doing things around the house that need to be done or taking care of animals or working at his forge on commissions. He doesn't _do_ relaxing, not really. Maybe in the dead of winter when he's feeling lazy he sleeps more, but now… 

Even now he’s thinking about too much. About asking his brothers if they wanna go hunting next weekend, and about checking the food store for the animals for the winter, and about a hundred other things. Maybe a thousand? And now with the unexpected addition of Jaskier confirming they're dating a few hours ago, that's a whole new quarry of worries that are begging to be unearthed. Of _course_ he is happy right now—Eskel is _trying_ to be—but how many ways can this go wrong? Will he inevitably not be enough, or be disappointing in some unforgivable way? Will this fizzle out too eventually? 

So many things could go right, and thinking about a real future is making him choke up too much. Being _held_ is too much. Eskel wants this maybe more than he's ever wanted anything, and it's terrifying, and if he ever loses this for some reason? He's not sure if he could ever find another person that he'd ever fall so hard for. 

The negative feelings are overwhelming, and he has the urge to scratch at his scars, fidgeting to keep himself from doing it. What if they don't figure this out? What if Jaskier finds someone else he is drawn to? Someone more attractive, certainly. 

What if he wants kids? Eskel can't give him that, just like he wasn't able to with—

“I can practically hear you thinking,” Jaskier mumbles into Eskel’s back while hugging him around the middle tighter. “Are you okay?”

“Hmm…” Borrowing the one word noise of vague affirmation from his brother is the best he can come up with. 

“‘Hmm?’” Putting a different inflection on it, Jaskier ends up sitting up, touching to Eskel’s shoulder and grabbing gently to put him onto his back. “I won't pry, but I wanna make sure you can relax tonight, okay? Because actually wait no, girls night starts now, and as the king of self care, my first decree is to make you my queen.”

Eskel chuckles a short noise with his mouth closed, even if he watches with the utmost attention as Jaskier straddles his lap. For a second, he thinks this is going to be something else he could bury his emotions beneath, but Jaskier’s hands stay on Eskel’s shoulders while he waits for him to answer. “I’m your queen?”

“Well, yeah, duh. You give off mother hen vibes, like, you'd rather bleed than let anyone go without for even a second, even if you aren't asked to. Which is incredibly sweet and impressive that you care so much about people close to you, but you haven't made much time for yourself, hm?” Jaskier drapes himself across Eskel’s chest, slotting together with him closely. “So as self care king, it's my job to take care of you first tonight so you don't have to worry.”

“I’m not a mother hen…” 

“We’re not here to debate the finer details of what kind of hen you are, can you match my breathing instead? I'm gonna breathe in, count to five, and let go slow. Don't count it out in your head and follow along that way, just focus on matching it.” Jaskier lays his head down on Eskel’s chest and breathes deeply, Eskel mentally trying to flow himself down and find the pattern.

In. One-two-three-four-five. Six. ...Seven. Eig—out.

In. 

One.

Two.

.

Three.

F—out.

Forcing his breath out in a quietly, quivery rush, Eskel _tries_. His lungs strain with the effort when he doesn’t breathe in enough and holds it in too long. 

Then the worries come back. And everything else negative comes with them. The doubt. The mistrust in himself to be able to hold onto the one good thing that fortune has thrown his way in a very long time. The heartache that is weaving poisonous vines though Eskel’s ribcage before their story has even begun to unfold.

Three.

The _anxiety_.

Four five.

Six.

What if Jaskier realizes this is a mistake? That Eskel isn't all that interesting or worthy of his attention? Of him?

Nine.

Ten.

Wait, Jaskier is breathing in again—his own comes out in a rush, breathing in with as much haste.

And now he can't even follow simple directions? What kind of idiot can't stop long enough to focus on breathing? And now Eskel kind of feels like he can't breathe at _all_ , that the air isn't getting to him fast enough. 

Is Jaskier disappointed? 

Staring up at the ceiling, biting down on his lip and holding his breath, Eskel’s heart rate skyrockets, and he tries to keep as still as possible. He's not even counting anymore though. _Fuck_ , what number is Jaskier on? Did he breathe out again? 

“Hey, _hey_ ,” he suddenly hears, gaze meeting Jaskier automatically. “You’re okay, lovely. You’re fine, just focus on me, okay? Can you do that for me baby? Let your breath go.”

It all comes out in a rush while Jaskier’s got Eskel’s face in a careful grip, rubbing at his cheeks with both thumbs. “Good, okay, and now breathe in, aaaaand stop, hold one, hold two, hold three, aaaaand out.”

And again.

And again.

Until Eskel’s breathing is regulated, until the panicked thoughts aren't swirling around his head nearly as fast anymore, and all he can see is Jaskier’s tired, gorgeous eyes finally. 

_Tired_.

Jaskier wanted to take a nap… And now he's wrecked his relaxation—

“Nu-uh, no you don't. If you're thinking that you ruined my nap or something like that, you haven't. My plan this whole time was to get _you_ here for a nap. Because I think you need it, and I want to lay here with you and make sure you’re okay.” 

It's only then that Eskel realizes his face is hot from being flushed up and his cheeks are wet, and isn't _that_ another humiliating thing, to be caught crying, unawares. He tries to turn his face away, but Jaskier is holding him—Eskel _can’t_ look at him, he can't speak to him. He ends up grabbing Jaskier’s hands and forcing them away so he can turn his face away and hide half of it in a pillow. He can feel Jaskier hesitate on his next move, which makes Eskel feel instantly _worse_ for pushing him away so soon after deciding he wants to pursue this with him. 

Fine fucking job he's done of it so far.

“Hm, really cocked that one up, huh,” Jaskier says quietly, probably to himself, which is an absurd thought because last Eskel checked? This is his fault. “Okay, let's do this instead. I’m gonna lay down and I’m gonna narrate my weird and very gay dream from last night. It would make me really happy if you put your head on my chest and listened. If you'd rather not, then that's okay; I don't need any words if you don't want to speak, and that's okay if you don't wanna.” He moves himself from straddling Eskel’s hips, sitting up beside him for a moment with his legs crossed. 

The last time he cried openly in front of someone, it had been his ex-wife while they were at the end of their marriage. She’d been absolutely ruthless about it too, amongst all of the other shit she did. Even with all of that in the past though, right now Eskel doesn't feel like he deserves Jaskier’s understanding after shutting down so completely. 

“I’m gonna grab your hand and I’m gonna ask you some yes or no questions. One squeeze for yes, two for no if you want to respond, and there's no time limit,” Jaskier’s hand slips into his own, cradling his fingers carefully. “Is this okay?”

Eskel thinks about it miserably for a few moments, his thoughts becoming the embodiment of a smoldering cartoon squiggle as his emotions run their course, leaving him feeling _exhausted_. That's the thing though, Jaskier isn't anyone from his past that had mistreated him or preyed upon his weaknesses. All over again, he feels stupid for so easily overthinking and spooking himself with confronted with his own insecurities. And yet? The whole time? Jaskier had only been trying to help.

One squeeze for yes, and Jaskier audibly exhales; Eskel can hear the relief in his voice. “Thank you for humoring me.” Jaskier’s hand is warm and safe, but Eskel’s heart goes back into his throat the moment his lover brings his knuckles to his lips. A soft kiss that lingers while Jaskier uses both of his hands to rub Eskel’s one. “Do you want me to stay in bed with you? And this isn't about what you _think_ I want you to say, I’m asking if _you_ want me here in bed with you.”

It’s a question that should be easy, but still makes him feel worse again. Yes, Eskel wants him here, and he wants all the nice things he’s thought of with him, but the shame and indignity of real life intruding on his fantasy world catching him off guard hangs over him. Gods though, Eskel wants this, even if admitting weakness is hard. Jaskier is making it easy, _again_. Always. 

What did Eskel do to deserve such kindness?

 _Squeeze_.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” punctuated by another kiss to Eskel’s knuckles, “Do you want to hear about my dumb dream? I think it was another prophecy.”

… _Squeeze_.

“Do you want to lay your head on my chest?”

 _Squeeze_.

“Do you need any help moving to do that?”

No. No, Eskel can do it by himself. He squeezes once, and tentatively again, Jaskier kissing his knuckles while he sits back against the pillows, half leaning up. 

But Eskel can't move. He tries to muster up the willpower, because he said _yes_ , and he said he doesn't want help, so why can't he move? He understands the action, and he understands the prompt, but he seems to be sinking into the mattress, making Jaskier wait. Can he change his answer? Is that allowed? Or will Jaskier get annoyed at him for wasting time… 

Jaskier’s hand squeezes his own out of turn and then lets go, and before Eskel has a chance to protest, he's being moved forcibly. His shoulder and waist are grabbed, and Jaskier pulls him onto his side, settling back as he then rolls him into place. Resting his head on Jaskier’s stomach at first, he readjusts himself now, no longer paralyzed while they settle. 

He has his ear resting over Jaskier’s chest very quickly after, nearly melting when his boyfriend’s fingers find their way to playing with the hair at the back of his neck. “So, my gay dream… I don't remember how it started, but I kind of became aware of of myself first before you found me. It kinda felt like a memory, but I was controlling myself if that makes sense? Dream physics are weird, but anyway… 

“I was in a dusty, drafty, unkempt castle library, and I was organizing the books. It was tedious, and I mean, dream me was even making a conscious effort to alphabetize and categorize these books. I had piles all around me, and I kept sneezing, but I seemed to be making decent progress. And it was getting colder and colder and I couldn't get warm no matter what. 

“The windows were boarded up for the winter, I think, and the fireplace was dying, making it harder for me to see and letting the chill back in the air. But there wasn't any more wood around for me to put on it.” Laying there, listening to Jaskier’s even and gentle tone and feeling the steady rhythm of his beating heart, it's hard to hold onto the pent up frustration that boiled over so suddenly. Especially with Jaskier idly caressing his neck, still also holding his hand. 

“When it seemed like all hope was lost and I started threatening to burn books, you appeared out of nowhere with a bundle of split logs under each of your arms like a delicious little lumberjack. And I don't remember exactly what we said to each other since it all got a little fuzzy after that, but you had the most beautiful golden eyes I’d ever seen before, like, _intense_. I also called you ‘wolf’ again, so I’m starting to think that's not a coincidence anymore, darling.”

Eskel can feel the deep inhale, and he can feel the slow sigh while Jaskier sinks down more into the pillows, pulling the covers up more so Eskel is near completely tucked in. Now warm, he feels… safe. Calmed down, certainly. Drained and exhausted, but soothed in a deep way he doesn't know how to articulate. 

“You topped up the fire and re-lit it again with some sort of magic, and then you dragged me away from my task to sit me down in front of the fireplace. And you were so warm and cozy, like my own personal furnace. You grabbed my hands to warm them back up… I think whatever that was, it was the first time we’d sat together and really talked rather than just go at it.”

Eskel can feel his lover’s heart rate increase, just a little, breaking the lull he finds himself in with drooping eyes. Jaskier’s voice is comforting, feeling thoroughly placated now and less like he wants to jump out of a window. 

“Maybe that's what we usually do, we meet and we fuck and then we figure it out? The last thing I remember from my dream was that you kissed me and asked me to travel with you in the spring. I said I would travel to the end of the world and back with clipped wings for you, and then I woke up. So whatever raw poetry I was spitting aside, I got to wake up to you in my arms today feeling cherished and safe. 

“I’m not an easy person to be with sometimes, but I know one thing right now, and it's that I have never felt nearly as good before with other people I’ve dated as I do with you. You take me seriously,” Jaskier’s motions falter, making Eskel lift his head. He’s looking up at the ceiling when he takes a deep breath and continues, “I’m not a joke to you, and you respect me regardless of what I do and how I do it. And I think, even when things are tough like it was just now, you're worth it.”

Eskel squeezes Jaskier’s hand, choked up while he buries his face back into his chest. He ends up with Jaskier’s arm draped around his shoulders and his other hand still tracing meaningless patterns on his neck, more comforting than it has any right to be. Feeling thoroughly deflated from the onslaught of anxiety, his eyes grow heavy, _finally_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a DOOZY lads. and before anyone asks, yes eskel finally gets to nut!!!! he also has some Subtle Gender Experiences that i'm not expanding on yet but just know that he's Thinking
> 
> PLEASE read the updated tags list for this one, there is a Lot that happens in the next 16k because i don't know how to shut the fuck up AND i'm nasty. i do have two sequels still planned but no eta on writing them since i wanted to revisit one of my earlier fics, i have to write my fic for the eskel big bang, and i also have been tossing around some original content i wanna try and write but DON'T quote me on ANY of that (except the EBB fic).
> 
> a lot of people have pointed out that they love my offbrand naming of things and i'm so Unbelievably Happy that yall enjoy that because it is SO fun coming up with them. anything that isn't offbranded in this means it's canon to the witcher why YES i make the rules. and also thanks to literally everyone for leaving such nice comments, it makes my day every single time, i love yall!!!!!
> 
> i only did a quick edit of this one because i'm truly sick of staring at it. ty for reading <3

_The feel of being soothed hits something deep, a phantom of a dream of someone whispering kind words to him and making him feel more alive than he's ever felt. Inspiring an emotion that is painful upon coming back to consciousness. Waking up on his ship, Eskel feels like chasing that delusion of a life that feels full—keeping his eyes closed, for a fleeting moment he feels that hand at the back of his neck sift through his hair._

_The feeling disappears though, much more quickly than Eskel can bear. The only thing he can remember is a pair of eyes that love him seemingly unconditionally, but now that he's awake there is no time to dally around in dreamland. His ship is close enough to his destination that he has to get up so he can take care of atmosphere entry and dock and find his mark as soon as possible._

_There is a reason Eskel never stops on Siristea, an old mining planet in the Clover galaxy group. Four separate galaxies started converging a_ very _long while ago, from far away forming a four-leaf clover pattern—the outer arm of the smallest galaxy crumbled apart as its centrifugal force slowed down faster than the rest of the celestial monstrosity (placing Siristea at the very end of the ‘stem’). It’s a galaxy chock full of leftover stellar nurseries that have formed countless celestial bodies, eventually either blown up under their own hubris and scattering material back into the cosmos or dimming as nuclear fusion could no longer be supported._

_Or something like that._

_Siristea orbits a star that burns hotter and brighter than most of the ones in the stellar neighborhood, a blue giant that will be volatile in about fifty million years, according to the best estimates. A flash of time for the universe at all times, and an unfathomable stretch of time for anyone alive right now._

_It is also a dreary planet without much life to it. It was terraformed somewhere around six hundred years ago to give it oxygen, but otherwise left untouched. Hardly any animals, and barely enough plants to make the atmosphere tolerable; it's only_ just _hospitable while waiting for nature to take root on the surface. Once the resources are stripped from the planet, anyway, it will be useless, so nobody at the top sees much point in investing in it._

_The air burns, though, if you're in it too long unprotected. Respirators are best, but Eskel’s is broken and he’s here on a bounty. The tugged-up heavy scarf wrapped around his neck has to be good enough for now, even if the air in Eskel’s mouth tastes foul. Luckily, most buildings on the planet have filtered oxygen, it's just that doesn't help him much when he's been in and out of them all day trying to do recon and tracking._

_It’s night when Eskel decides to take a break, finding no leads to his bounty, so he heads into the first dive bar he sees. It’s a dingy looking place with a flickering neon sign at the front, and the atmosphere inside about the same once he enters. Only giving a glance to the rest of the room at first, he sits down at the bar and pulls the scarf down to order a drink, turning around on the stool once he has it so he can passively search the building to see if there's any sign of his mark._

_There isn't, but what there_ is _is a pair of blue eyes on the stage that catch his that almost makes Eskel drop his glass before he even takes a sip. That's when he notices, too, that the voice coming from the stranger with gorgeous eyes makes a shiver crawl up his spine. They look away, and Eskel can breathe, nearly._

_Ambiguously dressed and with a voice that sounds like the one in Eskel’s dream, it's hard to shake the feeling of familiarity. A coincidence that is just as ridiculous as it sounds considering how far away Eskel had to come from across this massive galaxy to track a lucrative bounty. There is no way this is anything more than wishful thinking._

_He barely touches his drink, sipping idly while the person on stage goes through a few more songs, intermittently looking at Eskel. Maybe it's the scars that keeps his eyes coming back? That's usually it for people who want to get in his pants, and if this beauty wanted to, Eskel would_ not _be saying no. Maybe it's some kind of fate that when they hop off the stage to an applause that Eskel joins in on, whistling wolfishly for good measure, catching their attention._

_The next person up is not nearly as interesting, so Eskel turns around in his seat just one stool away from the end of the bar and nurses his drink properly, going back to his misery and his daydreams of a life much softer than this. All day, he hasn't been able to shake this morning, feeling like he had been held so carefully and with love… If only that had been real, but the fabric of reality remains thick as ever while he flags the bartender for another drink._

_Someone sits down beside him at the last seat at the counter which is rather_ rude _considering specifically he wanted the buffer of that seat in case someone sat down on his other side. Eskel side-eyes them and his heart almost stops for a second, it feels like. The stranger from the stage is looking at him sheepishly, but the bartender finally comes over then, and Eskel’s voice feels rougher than usual when he says, “Same for me, and whatever they’re having.”_

_The stranger with gorgeous eyes beams at him, melting a part of Eskel’s heart. “I like you already, such a gentleman to a poor, thirsty singer.” And to the bartender, “My usual, Yuzo.”_

_Their drinks get set down quickly, Eskel putting some more coin down on the counter for the bartender so he doesn't forget to pay. They clink glasses, his own liquor contrasting almost comically with the electric blue of his temporary companion’s, and Eskel wonders briefly how much flirting he can get away with before they leave. “Now, what's a pretty little canary like you doing sitting next to a brute like me?”_

_“I think you're hot and want you to fuck me,” comes the shockingly honest answer without a hint of jest in their tone or on their face._

_It makes Eskel throw his head back and_ laugh _, not at them, but at this situation. Subsiding after a moment, he asks, “You sure that's what you want?”_

_“Oh it_ absolutely _is, I’ve got a room upstairs if you wanna join me.” Their hand drops to Eskel’s thigh, tracing up until his dick is getting squeezed through the now too-tight fabric. “Please?”_

_He doesn't even have a chance of saying no, doesn't_ want _to. Even just that one touch has Eskel feeling so needy that he doesn't know what to do with himself—not that it's been_ that _long since his last brothel visit, only two planets ago. “Sure thing sugar.” Downing the rest of his drink, he watches his companion do the same before he's all but dragged up a little staircase hidden at the back of the bar._

_As soon as Eskel is pushed into the dim little room, he’s made to sit on the bed while Blue Eyes sits on his lap and kisses him. Even though his lips are chapped to the center of the galaxy and back, that doesn't phase either of them considering how hard he gets kissed. It feels like fire when hands end up under his shirt, pushing over his stomach and up to his chest, already so hard he's afraid he's going to cum in his pants from how turned on he is._

_Why is everything so warm? Why do the hands on him feel so familiar? Careful fingers brush over his nipples, and Eskel_ whines _, shivering almost uncontrollably when the canary in his lap says, “You’re so beautiful for me, look at you…”_

_Eskel is rendered speechless when his chest is grabbed and kneaded, when his bedmate’s knee ends up between his legs on the bed, pushing down against his cock. His thoughts are starting to get murky, panting hard and unable to help how loudly he moans when he grinds up, chest puffing out into being groped. He doesn't even resist getting pushed down to lay flat on the bed, shirt removed at some point without Eskel noticing. Those eyes are haunting him, and they–he—“_ Jaskier _,” some sort of wire gets crossed, the syllables spilling from his lips feeling right and true._

_“That's right baby, you found me.”_

_When did his lover strip?_

_Where_ is _he right now?_

_Jaskier sinks down onto his cock, wet and hot and tight and_ perfect _, leaning down to kiss him passionately and more intimately than a stranger should know him. Just how he likes to be kissed, slow and sensual while Eskel wraps his arms around him. The unprecedented vulnerability he feels makes itself at home in his chest, shaking as he puts his arms around him and pulls Jaskier close._

_It doesn't make sense, but it feels_ right _, rolling them over and fucking him slow and deep while the walls feel like they're crumbling around them. There’s a sense of deja-vu sinking into his bones that they've done this before countless times, like this was always_ meant _to happen. Jaskier clings to Eskel with his whole body, like he can't get close enough. There is an incessant buzzing that keeps loudly making itself known somewhere outside their little bubble in time and space, Eskel doing his best to ignore it._

_His hair is pulled back away from his face, and he nearly comes undone when Jaskier takes the tie out, settling gentle fingers on the back of his neck. Jaskier rubs soothingly while he sighs and trembles and moves with Eskel until they both finally come. Burying his face in Jaskier’s neck, Eskel feels weightless with leaking eyes and an overwhelming relief._

_He’s found him, again—somehow, he always does._

_“Time to wake up, sweetheart.”_

Eskel's eyes open with a start, heart rate skyrocketing as his bedroom comes back to him. The fabric of time and space has knit itself back together into reality to bring him back from his extremely vivid dream. He’s alone in his bedroom, the sun further down in the sky now, though not quite sunset yet. 

He can hear vague talking downstairs, unable to distinguish the words until he hears Jaskier’s raised voice say, “I don't care _who_ you are, you go up there and disturb him and, Meltele help me, I’m going to toss you out of this house and onto your ass with my bare hands, do you hear me?”

There is a bit more bickering that Eskel misses, burying his face back into the pillow it had been pressed against, feeling a little shaken. He pushes the dream from his mind for now, especially when his phone buzzes again on the nightstand—it goes ignored, but when it rings _again_ , Eskel picks it up and puts it on speaker, tossing his phone onto the nearest pillow while it feels like his mouth is full of rocks as he mumbles, “What?”

“Well besides the fact that I just got thrown out of your house by an angry little twunk, I was _trying_ to drop off some extra meat from Carla since she went to the big pasture in the sky yesterday.” Lambert pauses, and then, “Are you okay?”

His head hurts a little, and really, he wants to decompress—Eskel definitely doesn’t have the energy to do anything at the moment. “Yeah… Took a nap a little while ago, was still asleep.”

“Huh,” is all he has to say, and Eskel immediately understands the vague noise. It’s not _like_ him to be deeply asleep in the middle of the day, even on a weekend. “Well, anyway, I left the cooler on the porch, you can bring it back when you’ve packed it all in the freezer. We vacuum sealed the cuts of meat already for you, so they’re good to just pop in.”

“Mm, thanks, I’ll get it in a little bit. ...Sorry about Carla.”

“Yeah, thanks. She was a good cow, but it was her time. Anyway, I’m getting outta here before _I_ get gutted; he’s staring out the window at me waiting for me to drive away, later.”

“Later,” Eskel says before they hang up, and he groans to himself for having to have put in effort to speak normally.

Right now he feels a little dehydrated and ...clingy. His dream is still too fresh on his mind, having felt so _real_ —he wonders how it ends, if him and Jaskier run away together or if Eskel left alone. Not that it matters much, not with the sound of careful footsteps coming up the stairs, something that makes Eskel smile when one of them creaks and Jaskier curses softly.

When the door opens, Jaskier peeks around the corner, his head coming into view with a pout. “I didn’t wanna wake you up, you seemed to really need the rest.” He sits down on the bed before deciding to lay atop the comforter, reaching his hand up to push the hair out of Eskel’s eyes. “Was that one of your brothers?”

Eskel can’t help leaning into the touch, humming a quiet note, closing his eyes. “Yeah, Lambert.”

“I was _so_ rude to him, please tell him I said sorry.” The remorseful note in his voice is cute, but Eskel knows full well that Lambert was probably gruff and thus pissed him off. When Eskel doesn’t answer, the subject is dropped for now. And that’s fine, because he’s enjoying the feel of fingertips dragging along his scalp and fingers sifting through his hair. “Your hair is getting a bit long.”

“Mm, know I should get it cut, been lazy…” And that’s true, yeah, but something about seeing Jaskier wear whatever clothing and makeup he wants without caring if anyone looks has made Eskel a little envious. 

Shaking his strands, Jaskier says, “I think it looks good long, and I keep having dreams of you with a ponytail so maybe that’s my prophetic visions telling me you’d look adorable.”

Squirming for the praise, Eskel immediately becomes acutely aware of the pillow between his thighs and the wet feeling in his boxers—it’s _embarrassing_ , and Eskel tries not to call attention to it. Besides, “Adorable?”

“Yeah, you’d look really cute with a braid,” he says, stroking at Eskel’s cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Not to change the subject, but before we do anything else tonight, I wanna check in and make sure you’re okay.”

He is, or at least, Eskel thinks he is. Whatever symptoms he had earlier are pretty much gone, replaced with some light mortification to have had cum in his sleep. “I’m okay, I uh…” ‘ _...had a gay dream about us and I’m not sure if I deserve that kind of fortune to have met you again but it was also a wet dream_ ’.

Jaskier gives him a peck on the lips, to which Eskel shakily exhales. The slide of his boyfriend’s hand touching to his waist makes Eskel grind subtly against the pillow, though it's clear it's a comfort gesture from Jaskier that has no ulterior motive behind it. “We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but if I did anything wrong, let me know? I don't wanna be the reason you feel like that.”

And sincerely, “I appreciate that.” Eskel forgets about his predicament for a second and takes a deep breath. “And I appreciate that you keep encouraging me to set boundaries.” It's nice to feel accommodated and listened to about his comfort levels even if things are hard to say with words sometimes. “You’re right I uh… I don't really take time for myself, and I put everyone before me. It’s always been like that, and I’ve never been good at relaxing…”

There’s a sadness to Jaskier’s eyes for a moment that hurts to think it’s at his expense, but Eskel wants to be honest with him. Even if he doesn't want to talk about it right now, it’s becoming more and more apparent that actually? Eskel trusts the safety he’s finding in Jaskier—something he hasn't felt in a relationship in a long time. Jaskier’s thumb rubs along the lines of Eskel’s scars for a second, ending at his curled upper lip and tracing it gently. “You deserve so much better than you've had.” It’s a simple statement that carries more weight than Eskel wants to admit to, but it feels good to hear and better to believe. 

Being cared for and accepting that it is genuine is new, and even though he’d panicked, Jaskier had taken it in incredible stride. He’d calmed Eskel down, talked him through breathing, spoke softly to him, and above all told him he's _worth it_. Even during a small crisis like that. Again, he feels laid bare, but this time all he can feel is warmth in his chest.

Leaning forward, Eskel closes the gap between them, grabbing Jaskier’s hand and putting it back to his waist, admitting very suddenly just how badly he wants physical reassurance. The press of their lips is chaste for the first couple of pecks, but Eskel sighs a trembling little note against Jaskier’s lips after licking his own; it’s a reminder that he's still got a pillow between his legs and a mess in his briefs.

Jaskier clues in quickly to the mood change, probably realizing just how deprived Eskel is based on the next kiss he gets. Slow and soft with a peek of tongue that Eskel chases, remembering his dream again with an overwhelming clarity. Jaskier saying he found him _again_ ; maybe he is just that lucky to have crossed paths here in this reality. 

Jaskier pushes the blanket down Eskel's legs, moving himself too off the covers so he can shove it to the bottom of the bed. When he grabs the pillow, Eskel’s legs clamp down, quietly and involuntarily whining into Jaskier’s mouth. Needy doesn't even begin to explain it, especially when Jaskier coaxes the pillow out from between his thighs and sticks his hand there instead. 

Eskel is moved so he's on his back, whining in caution once against Jaskier’s lips. His lover looks down at him, bright eyed and with nothing but adoration. “You’ve been so good for me today, holding out for me and waiting for your reward. Do you want it?”

“ _Yes_ ,” but—his dick is groped through his briefs, Jaskier hesitating when he finds the wet patch. He looks openly amazed, and Eskel feels lightheaded for how horny the touch makes him. “I uh… it happened while I was asleep.” Mumbled, face getting hotter when Jaskier grins at him.

“Did you dream about me?” 

Nodding with his embarrassment on full display, Eskel can't help moaning when Jaskier pulls his underwear down, his hard cock springing free and _much_ more of a mess than anticipated. The head is sticky, the hair on his lower belly smeared with semen. His balls are aching, tender enough to the touch for his cock to ooze a little dribble of fluid when Jaskier palms at him. 

Jaskier kisses him again, teasing at Eskel’s lip with his tongue; he so cruelly breaks the kiss, humming a pleased little noise when Eskel follows. Ultimately, his boyfriend scoots him into sitting up against the pillows and the headboard, sitting atop Eskel’s thighs before they get back to kissing. The position is much more comfortable, even when Jaskier reaches between them again to wrap his hand around his cock. He can't help himself, whining again and with scattered thoughts, feeling needier than ever before as hips move up into the touch. 

There's a moment where Eskel feels like he might already pop off, Jaskier teasing at the head with his fingers while shoving his tongue into Eskel’s mouth, but the moment passes when they pull apart. His heart is beating at approximately a thousand miles an hour, feeling almost hopelessly lost watching Jaskier sink down on the bed. His briefs are finally pushed down his legs completely, Eskel kicking them away while Jaskier licks up the mess around his cock, dropping filthy kisses at the base of it. It's hard not to watch his boyfriend clean up every last bit of semen like it's a _gift_ , a thought that makes Eskel moan a deep, prolonged sound.

“You’re so pretty all the time, you make such gorgeous sounds,” Jaskier suddenly says, and Eskel’s face _burns_. Praise for the sake of it feels incredibly fucking good, makes him want to melt into a gooey puddle inside; Eskel believes him, as absurd as it is to be described like that. 

Covering his eyes with his forearm, Eskel spreads his legs when Jaskier directs him to, crying out when he stops teasing and takes his cock into his mouth. Sinking down further into the pillows, Jaskier sets off a feedback loop of humming and making Eskel moan, moaning around his cock as he sinks down on him, more sounds spilling past Eskel’s lips that cannot be held in. It’s hard not to move his hips, already twitching, already close enough to cumming that he’s not sure he’s even going to be able to articulate that.

Jaskier bobs his head, drool dripping from his mouth each time he moves up Eskel’s length until he pulls off entirely—finally able to breathe for a moment, Eskel peeks from under his arm to find Jaskier looking right up at him. He’s holding his cock like it’s the most precious thing in the world, but it's the way Jaskier makes sure he has Eskel’s attention fully on him while his fingers are gently massaging the skin above his balls that nearly ruins him.

“Does this feel good baby?” All he can do is nod, closed mouth keening turning into a surprised, loud outcry when Jaskier does something else. Something he can't even _describe_ , hips lifting off the bed while Jaskier tries to hush him. “It’s okay, it’s _okay_ , just relax sweetheart, I’ve got you.” 

The foreign, sudden intrusion of penetration without actually being penetrated is overwhelming, already so riled up that he has no idea how to process it. Shutting his eyes, Eskel tosses his head back so far he hits the headboard, the slight pain of it grounding him against Jaskier gently thrusting his fingers shallowly inside of him. The feeling is like lightning creeping in slow motion up his spine, and for a moment, he feels _right_. 

Jaskier goes slow, stroking somewhere up inside him with a pressure that has Eskel trembling as the feeling builds on itself. It’s gentle and new and he is completely helpless to it. He can't reign in his little tentative moans while he rocks his hips against Jaskier’s hand, making his boyfriend’s fingers slip just a little deeper inside. His lover gives him more of that intoxicating pressure, dropping kisses on Eskel’s lips, his neck, down to his chest where Jaskier pushes his T-shirt up so he can drop kisses to his pecs, going lower still. 

His orgasm bubbles up from inside him suddenly, legs shaking and wanting to press together but unable to because Jaskier is between them. He’s aware of the warm, wet heat around the head of his cock, of delicate fingers stroking inside of him in a way he's never known was possible with his body. Curling in on himself, he grasps at Jaskier’s shoulders as he empties himself inside his mouth.

Eskel doesn't even register it when Jaskier moves, still rubbing inside of him when he gets an absolutely obscene kiss. The sensation of Jaskier shoving his tongue into his mouth and the ooze of semen being swapped onto his tongue paired with getting fingered has him spurting another ruined little string of ejaculate that he has no idea where it lands. But the whole affair leaves him breathless and trembling, especially when Jaskier’s fingers slip out of him and grip his cock, gently jacking him off through the aftershocks until Eskel is a boneless, sweaty mess.

An indeterminable amount of time later, Eskel comes back to reality from where he found himself drifting in the pleasant buzz of _nothingness_ —a space where he didn't have a single thought in his head, only vaguely aware of getting moved physically. When he lifts his head up, he’s half pressed up against Jaskier, who is playing with his hair. 

Finally finding his voice, all he can do is bewilderedly ask, “What the fuck was that?”

Jaskier’s gentle little giggle is more soothing than it has any right to be. “So, one of my best friends is trans, and we got inadvisably drunk one night during our second year of uni. Which, you know, that feels like every other night… but anyway, she showed me how to find the inguinal canals on her—which are where your nuts dropped from.”

The blunt wording is _greatly_ appreciated, though that doesn't stop Eskel from asking, “And it's not gonna do any damage?”

“I was worried about that too, but no, she told me that as long as you don't jam shit up there way too far and you’re careful, it's fine and safe.”

That's something he's going to have to look up later, but for now? Now he deflates completely, pushing one arm under Jaskier and wrapping his other over his waist while sticking his face in his side. It’s now closer to sunset, though the clouds have rolled back in from the brief break in the afternoon. Mushing his face into Jaskier’s side, Eskel takes a deep breath, forcing himself to try and even back out. 

They lay like that for a while longer, even when Eskel’s phone starts buzzing with text messages that he doesn't give a fuck about right now. Not while he finishes mellowing out and waking up and trying to move his limbs. He feels like he's been deconstructed into sand, and the only thing keeping him from spilling everywhere is his boyfriend holding him loosely. But not having to rush? Or do anything? Just laying there without any expectation of doing anything else is nice. 

Even when Jaskier accidentally drops his phone onto Eskel’s head, gasping, “ _No_ , no no, oh my _gods_ I am so sorry.” Jaskier bends down to smooch him on the spot it fell on while Eskel laughs out of surprise, a full belly laugh that gets his boyfriend snickering while hunching over him to grab his phone from where it landed. It’s enough to finally make him stir, feeling like he has the energy for basic tasks now. At least, enough to realize he's still got his dick out and he needs a shower because he feels gross, and he’s starving.

“I know you said we’re gonna take a bath later but I'm gonna go hop in the shower…” 

“That’s fine, it’ll give me some time to set everything else up for tonight, speaking of, I did clean the tub when I got up, so don't leave a mess in there. I know where you live,” he says with a mock threatening tone at the end. It’s paired with another smooch atop his head before Eskel gets banished to the bathroom. 

And yeah, maybe he _does_ spend a long time contemplating his life and his relationship while sitting down at the bottom of the tub with the shower running over him after he's washed up. Though, Eskel will admit to himself in private that he's far too intimidated by a thorough lack of knowledge about his own body to try what Jaskier did to him on his own so soon. But, he allows himself to have a moment where he can relax alone and sort out what's going on inside his head. 

It’s good, Eskel thinks. It definitely _feels_ good, despite the panic attack and lingering bad feelings from that, overall so far today is a good day. Things seem both figured out and like he's got one foot on a banana peel and the other on a rollerskate in the dark, so that's better than feeling like he jumped into the deep end on his own. And, he has a _boyfriend_ , something that really starts to sink in now that the water is beating down on the top of Eskel’s head as he sits on the floor of the tub. 

Jaskier is… too good for him, it feels like. Too understanding and too accommodating and too _everything_. Or maybe the shock of these things is just because of how poorly he has been misunderstood in the past with other people. So, it feels _really_ fucking good for once to breathe and enjoy himself and have sappy little moments where it feels like his heart might explode out of his rib cage. Maybe that's _okay_ , to want to be seen by someone and to have them not only see, but accept Eskel as he is and make him feel good about it. 

Tenderness for the sake of it, feeling cherished without a cost to it.

The mushy feeling spreads through his chest when he gets back to the bedroom with a towel around his hips and he has his comfy sweats and an old T-shirt laid out for him already. The bed has been remade, and the room has been tidied up, there's a candle lit on the dresser which adds a certain ambiance to the late afternoon light filtering in. It looks like it’s started drizzling, but thankfully this morning he'd set the goats up with what they'd need for a whole day so he didn't have to check on them tonight; somehow he'd known he wouldn't want to do much. 

When he gets downstairs, he finds Jaskier in the kitchen standing in front of the sink with his back mostly to him, reading the label on a jar. His footsteps are audible enough that he knows he won't scare Jaskier, but all the same, his boyfriend ends up jumping a little when Eskel wraps his arms around him. He breathes deep as he smooches him on the back of his head, then rests his chin on Jaskier’s shoulder. “What's that?”

“I got some hand scrub this morning, I was gonna test it out if you wanna too with me,” he says, turning it over again in his hands before opening the jar. “It’s coconut.”

“Ooh, sounds fancy. Yeah, why not?” 

Jaskier reaches over to the faucet and turns on the sink, skipping his fingers under the water to test for the temperature before he says, “Okay, gimme your hand,” and grabs the closest one to drag it under the water. For a second, Eskel is confused, but then Jaskier digs his fingers in the jar and moves Eskel’s hand to start massaging the thick scrub in. Eskel watches with his heart in his throat while Jaskier pays attention to every inch of his hand—the back of it first, down to the fingers, going individually and taking the time to rub the coarse salt and the coconut oil base into his knuckles and cuticles. A process that Jaskier seems all too happy to repeat with his other hand before having him scrub his hands together and then rinse. 

“Can’t say I’ve ever had the full service like that. Or probably have ever used hand scrub…” But Eskel rubs his hands together and marvels at how soft they are.

“Whaaat? That’s such a shame, you deserve to have someone make sure your hands are taken care of,” Jaskier says, leaning back against Eskel’s chest to look up at him while he grabs one and brings his knuckles to his lips. 

“That someone you?” Eskel asks, taking his hand back so he can do the same thing for Jaskier. It’s something that he imagines Lambert would tell him is dumb, essentially washing each other’s hands, but he feels like he understands the appeal immediately. Jaskier’s hands are not as smooth as he would have thought, though still unlike Eskel’s rough, cracked skin from perhaps not taking the best care of his hands while working the forge. His fingers are a little more slender, but he has his own calluses that Eskel’s fingertips linger over while taking his time with the coconut scrub. 

His boyfriend sighs and leans against him, and Eskel can’t help grinning against Jaskier’s ear when he feels a socked foot rubbing against his shin. “You bet it is— _oh_ you are good at this. But this is supposed to be about you tonight, don’t think you’re gonna derail me.”

“Mm, I won’t. But I wanna make sure you’re taken care of too.” He gets a kiss under the jaw for that, Eskel moving on to Jaskier’s other hand. His fingers on this hand have stronger calluses, prompting him to ask, “These from your instruments?”

“Majoring in medieval instruments made me one of the few people in the world that has a large catalog of specialized church documentary music _and_ experience writing indie video game soundtrack music as a side gig during term breaks.” Jaskier takes a deep breath and then says, “I wanted to be a musician like all kids do, and the only way I could study music was if I did it the way my parents wanted. So, long story short I ended up at Oxenfurt on my parents’ dime, but they found out I was deviating from violin prodigy to medieval music and threatened to cut me off.”

“Because of a major change?” That makes him angrier than he should be, but he keeps himself in check, washing Jaskier’s hands off. “They sound like assholes.”

“Yeah well, when I was figuring out who I was and I came out as a man, they treated me like shit and I cut _them_ off. Aaaaand I had to take out a bunch of loans so I could keep up studying full time without worrying about my living expenses since I had a full, advanced courseload. Then I had to pursue my doctorate along with it so I could get a lecturer position when my special interest was a grand dreams of becoming a traveling bard. You know, as it turns out? I am several hundred years too late,” Jaskier chuckles at his own expense, but then he sighs a tired note.

“The university wiped out a lot of my debt in exchange for five years of enlightening the minds of a bunch of kids fresh out of secondary who don’t know a lute from a mandolin—the _nerve_. Anyway it’s been eight years, and I’m very tired, but I haven’t even planned out taking my sabbatical yet financially so I’m pretty sure I’ll be signing on for another year after I finish this one out.”

Grabbing the hand towel hanging over the sink cabinet door, Eskel dries their hands off, feeling like if he ever met Jaskier’s parents, he might have words with them. Words he will contemplate much, much later, because he can already see a solution here. A solution that… might still be too early to outright ask, so he tucks it away for now. Doesn’t hurt to drop a feeler and test the waters though, “I’m sure we can figure somethin’ out… you should take a break.”

They stand together for a few moments, Eskel crossing his arms over his lover’s abdomen while Jaskier breathes quietly as if contemplating. “We’ll see what happens, it’s still all up in the air right now hrgh… Anyway do you wanna do a face mask? I already ordered dinner, it should be here in like… twenty minutes I think.”

He remembers the cooler of meat he’s gotta get off the porch, and says as much, “Lambert dropped off some of the meat from the cow his husband put down yesterday, so I’m gonna bring it into the kitchen so it’s not sitting outside, then I’ll meet ya up there.”

“Oh, that was actually… really nice of him. Now I feel a little bad that I yelled at him,” Jaskier says, turning around finally in his arms. “Seriously, tell him I’m sorry.”

“Naaah,” Eskel says, thinking about his grumpy brother. “Actually, I think he likes you already for not taking any shit from him. I think he’d probably appreciate it more if you didn’t apologize.”

Jaskier snickers, and Eskel feels lighter, moreso when he’s kissed a second later. A proper little smooch on the lips while Jaskier scoots Eskel back so he can go. “Meet me in the bathroom, I gotta go get the stuff anyway.”

Opening the front door highlights how much colder the day has become, a chill settling in the air that makes it apparent just how close winter really is; it doesn’t really help that Eskel’s hair is still wet. First snows should be coming in a couple weeks, and despite his earlier breakdown also highlighting that, Eskel will need to do his final prep very soon. But the cooler is brought inside and hauled onto the kitchen table so he can sort through it all in a little bit.

Eskel is actually the first in the bathroom, grabbing some facecloths while he waits. Jaskier has a few fancy little black pots that he sets down on the counter of the sink. “Okay, there’s a few to choose from. Personally, I’d recommend this oatmeal one for you since it’s an exfoliator—and don’t take this the wrong way because I mean it in the most loving way possible, but you need to exfoliate.”

Chuckling, Eskel touches his face and says, “There’s not much that’s gonna fix this mug.”

A bit indignant, Jaskier instantly shoots back, “ _Hey_ , I didn’t say anything like that, I think you’re beautiful.” Zero hint of irony or of it being a joke is what makes Eskel’s heart lurch in his chest. “Taking care of your skin has nothing to do with how pretty I think you are, so wash your face—here.” Eskel is beckoned to hold his hand out, Jaskier squeezes a cleanser onto his palm.

So Eskel does as directed, washing his face and rinsing off, keeping a corner of the cloth dry to blot his face off. “I’ll do that one then.”

“Good,” Jaskier says, “ _Wait_! Hold up,” and he backs out of the room, heading back to the bedroom. He’s back a few moments later to Eskel’s bewilderment, holding a piece of cloth that goes over his head. He has no idea what’s happening until he’s got a headband on his head that has two triangles pointing out from the top, the whole deal holding his hair back from his face. “I bought this for you and forgot it last weekend.”

And that’s when he realizes it’s supposed to be cat ears, making Eskel feel equal parts childish and… delighted. “Really? It’s cute…”

They both put their masks on, Eskel only having to watch Jaskier for a second before he gets the gist of it. Eskel rubs in the oatmeal mask in small circles at Jaskier’s instruction, washing his hands to get the remainder on his fingers off. It’s _strange_ , looking in the mirror and seeing himself with this kind of product on his face, but Jaskier’s headband looks like a bear and his face is blue and that makes Eskel feel a lot less ridiculous to see his lover so comfortable with self-care. 

It’s mundane and shouldn't feel so special maybe, but it's one more thing that he would have never allowed himself to just _do_. Now that he has an oatmeal paste on his face, Eskel kind of understands the appeal. He can already feel his skin being soothed the longer the mask sits on it.

But he’s back to standing in front of a cooler of meat shortly after, this time sorting out which cuts he's going to put in the fridge upstairs and then bringing the rest to the freezer downstairs in the basement. Which… unexpectedly solves some immediate crisis about his stores of meat, but the hunting thing is still at the back of his mind. 

By the time he’s got his freezer organized, he can hear Jaskier at the front door talking to the delivery person, staying hidden long enough for them to leave so he doesn't have to be seen. Not out of fear or anything, but to a degree, Eskel is feeling _incredibly_ vulnerable. Though, he’s never been shy, not really. It’s just that he's being allowed and _encouraged_ to be soft and he has no idea how to feel about it. Good, really, but _fuck_.

As soon as he gets back upstairs from the basement, Eskel gets corralled into the bathroom to wash his face off. The kitty ear headband catches him off guard again when he looks at himself in the mirror, but he opts to leave it on for now, because why not? Also, his face _does_ feel a little smoother when he touches it, even with his uneven stubble half grown in. That's a problem for tomorrow morning though, for now, Eskel is made to rub some kind of lotion on his face. 

From there, he's corralled instead to the living room and sat down on the couch, and they eat while watching the news and complaining about it together. But it gets _interesting_ when Jaskier turns on Webflix and starts up Jurassic Narc, the dinosaur undercover cop movie starring Brett Goldblum.

“I know this is weird energy to bring to the room,” Jaskier starts as he sits sideways on the couch facing Eskel, legs crossed, “But I have to tell you about what I associate this movie with. When I was like eleven or twelve, I was having a slumber party full of weird little girls who love this kind of movie because _I_ was also a weird little girl who loves this shit. But anyway one girl had a huge headache but didn't want to call her mom to go home, so my mom gave her half of a vicodin as long as she promised not to tell her mom. And then my friend of course got high as hell off it and painted everyone’s nails while we watched this. So it's a tradition for me to watch it whenever I paint my nails, also can I paint your nails?”

The question comes so quickly at the end that Eskel almost misses it, so he says, “Um, yeah, but hold on your mom basically just gave a kid drugs?”

“Sure did!” Jaskier chirps the quick response as he reaches over to the table where Eskel finally notices the nail polish he bought earlier. “Mom of the year, but to be fair, the ‘90s were kind of just like that.”

“...Yeah they kinda were, huh,” Eskel says, knowing full well Vesemir had sketchy friends that would come around selling him pot, which he shared with Eskel and his brothers when they were teens. Mostly so they wouldn't buy anything dangerous or do anything stupid while not at home—which, of course, all of them _absolutely_ did and then never told him about it.

“But anyway, this movie is so dumb and I used to go nuts over Brett in every role he had… I thought it was because I had a dumb little girl crush but as it turns out it was a deep gender envy,” he says, shaking a bottle of red nail polish before reaching for Eskel’s closest hand.

And something about that… clicks. “Gender envy is a thing?”

“It’s absolutely a thing,” Jaskier says patiently, _lovingly_. “I had a few people I felt incredible gender envy for. Brett Goldblum, for one, uhhh… the entirety of the band Hanson, Keanu Reeves in every single role he'd ever been in but you are _not_ ready for my thesis on why The Matrix is an allegory for being trans, Joshua Jordan-Lebitt with the long hair and center part _specifically_ … And I have the biggest gay crush on Lucy Lawless.”

Jaskier is methodical while he talks, taking each finger gently and brushing his nails with a deep, approaching-dark red color that looks like it belongs on the nails of someone who decidedly doesn't look like he does. “The Matrix? Really?”

“Babe I just told you you're not ready,” Jaskier says, pouting as he finishes the first coat of Eskel’s thumbnail, and then goes to grab his other hand. And then he looks at him and winks, “But if you wanna watch it sometime, I can bring them all over. They were formative to my understanding of my gender, which is that I don't actually have one. I'm not like… agender, and I’m not fluid—like going between male and female and the weird grey area between them. It’s just not real to me. If someone else feels they're a man or woman or whatever that's cool for them, but I’ve said no thank you to the whole thing.”

Casually, as if that doesn't shake Eskel just a little bit. 

The first coat of paint on his nails is thin, but Jaskier gently blows on them to try and set them faster before he says, “Anyway, I was right, this is a great color on you.”

It is, is the thing. “It’s kinda sexy,” Eskel says, inspecting his nails. And for once? It’s something that feels okay to say.

“It is,” Jaskier says with a cute little snicker, “I have great taste.”

Eskel suddenly finds himself with Jaskier’s hands on his shoulders, and he's getting kissed. Just a peck, but Eskel puts his hands on Jaskier’s waist and keeps him in place while he draws it out. Because maybe he wants another kiss, and another, and Jaskier is more than happy to oblige him. 

Until he’s half in Eskel’s lap and pulling apart to humph out, “You’re gonna ruin your nails…”

“More authentic that way, sugar,” Eskel says, grinning even as he flexes his fingers to make sure he's not catching any cloth from Jaskier’s shirt. 

“I hate that you're right, but I want it to at least make it to the end of the night before it gets fucked up…”

“Seems unlikely, nail polish likes to explode off my fingernails within hours,” Eskel says while Jaskier woefully goes back to just sitting in front of him. “Haven't had them painted in a dog’s age though, maybe since I finished my Associate’s degree…” At the community college, having taken classes after high school for the sake of it. 

“You used to paint your nails?” The question isn't incredulous, but Jaskier sounds delighted by the mere suggestion that he did.

“Yeah, uh, back in secondary I was a loner, didn't have a lot of friends, but one of them was this goth girl who wanted to be a beautician, and she used to practice her nail painting and other stuff on me. And once she went to school, I did just black on my nails until I took up the forge and it stopped looking good on my hands. But the damned paint never liked to stay on my nails, I always looked like a hometown punk band drummer.” It’s a brief trip down memory lane, and not something he's shared with anyone since there stopped being physical evidence of it.

“Oh, that's _adorable_ ,” a flash of warmth goes through Eskel at the passive praise, “You’re cute, I love imagining baby Eskel going around with painted nails. What else did baby Eskel do that you look back on and you’re like ‘how didn't I realize I wasn’t straight sooner’?”

Eskel has to think about it for a moment, but he laughs to himself once he realizes, “I mean, I realized maybe in the middle of college? But okay, so I was on the wrestling team in secondary right? Only reason that happened was because when I was a freshman, some upperclassman was picking on me, and this super tall, super strong junior came up and told him to stop. Well, it was more like… It was more like he shoved him into a locker and said ‘how do you like it, shrimp?’ and Jaskier, when I tell you I followed him around until he graduated…” cutting himself off to chuckle at his own expense, he finishes, “Also joined the team because of him and started lifting.” It wasn't the _only_ reason, but it definitely was the kickstart. 

“That's absolutely precious,” Jaskier says, picking one of his hands up and giving the back of it a kiss, something that makes Eskel’s heart skip. It’s now though that he starts the second coating, more careful this time as he works. “Mine was being a little girl in first grade with a crush that I didn't realize was a crush. Long story short I begged my mom to cut my hair the exact same way as another girl in my class, and she finally caved and let me. So I drew a picture of me and my crush together as best friends, then gave it to her, and she not only came in the next day with her hair cut differently, she never talked to me _ever_ again. I was devastated, but objectively, it's the most hilarious thing baby Jaskier could have ever done.”

“You really went all out, even drew a _picture_ , and she didn't give you the time of day? She doesn't know who she missed out on,” Eskel says, not realizing _what_ he said until Jaskier falters and smiles brightly at him.

In the background, the movie starts getting into the meat of the plot. Brett Goldblum, the only known human in the whole movie, almost had a costume slip that uncovered his identity to his pterodactyl girlfriend. It’s dumb and funny and Jaskier ends up quoting a bunch of lines word for word without even looking at the screen. He finishes Eskel’s nails before moving onto his own, painting them a sensible teal color with a single red accent nail.

It's a fun, dumb movie, and the climax of it is the most ridiculous thing Eskel has ever seen. They watch another dumb movie after while waiting for their nails to completely dry, this time one of Eskel’s favorites called Tumbling Down starring Michael Cruglas. Highlights include: a mental breakdown in Novigrad traffic during the summer, crimes, a kid teaching the main character how to shoot off a rocket launcher, killing a bigot while buying a snow globe, and Cruglass kidnapping his daughter in the movie, only to be brought to justice by a cop on his last day in the office, hours from retiring. 

It’s late in the evening, but still a couple hours until it's past Eskel’s bedtime. The nap really did help though, even if he's not necessarily refreshed. Comfortable, not really tired yet, and feeling good about himself for once. 

Part of him feels relieved by whatever nonverbal permission Jaskier has given him to feel okay with doing nice things for himself. Small acts of self care that he would have never done for himself but that he is weirdly grateful to experience. Taking a weekend to relax and watching movies and painting nails and the face masks and so many little things that add up and make it all feel so goddamned intimate. 

Having his hands scrubbed and doing the same in return to Jaskier felt so good, remembering the feeling of handling his hands as something precious. Really, aren't they? But even then, it was the care put into every thought today, every action. It all makes Eskel feel raw on the inside, chipping away at years of repression in ways he still doesn't understand. 

With his attention off in the clouds, Eskel doesn't notice Jaskier has put something else mindless up on the TV for background noise until he's being straddled. Jaskier’s hand reaches between them, palming his dick through his sweatpants. He forewent the underwear considering Jaskier hadn't laid them out for him, so the one layer of soft material inside has Eskel sighing contentedly.

The delicate touch of lips to his makes Eskel shudder, especially when he does it again. The second kiss is still a little more teasing than tentative, but it comes with Jaskier’s fingers loosely jerking his cock off with the fabric. He can practically feel the head of his cock ooze, and he doesn't have a chance of staying composed, watching Jaskier lick his lips before leaning back in. 

Eskel moans against Jaskier’s mouth, content and comfortable; his hands go to Jaskier’s hips, loosely holding on. His attention is on the kiss, a slow, sweet thing if not for the hint of tongue Jaskier slips him. His cruel boyfriend stops from going too far, sitting back instead within mischief in his eyes. “So, did you think earlier was your whole reward?”

Caught off guard, Eskel doesn't have an answer besides a quiet little grunt when Jaskier squeezes his cock. Something deep inside of him feels like it's yawning, but Eskel feels safe with it, and with Jaskier. 

“Is it okay if I ride your cock for being a good boy for me?”

“Yeah,” Eskel says, both squirming subtly for the praise and very suddenly relentlessly horny again. 

They both frantically adjust their clothing, Jaskier getting up long enough to slip his pants off completely while Eskel pushes his sweats down. He’s guided to sit with his back to the couch to make it easier for Jaskier to straddle him and sink down onto Eskel’s cock. Jaskier’s arms wrap around his neck, starting up a pace that Eskel matches easily once he gets a proper hold on Jaskier’s hips to fuck up into him. 

There is a desperation there for Jaskier to make as much contact with him as possible, something that Eskel isn't even sure _why_ he's so sure about it—him needing comfort and hiding that under his adoration for Eskel. He’s not even sure what's _wrong_ , but something feels off in the way his hands cling to Eskel’s shoulders, in the way he can only relax once Eskel wraps his arms around his back. Giving him a proper kiss and forcing him to slow down to a grind, he’s surprised by how tentative and uncertain it feels. 

When the kiss breaks, Jaskier looks at him with glassy eyes and cautiously says, “I don't know why I’m overwhelmed right now.” 

“Do you wanna stop?” Eskel can live with just heading to bed even if this was a spontaneous thing in the first place. 

“Absolutely not,” is his immediate protest, Jaskier’s cunt squeezing around him. “I’m overwhelmed _and_ horny, I can be both at the same time.”

“Not debating that.” And really, Eskel is still feeling raw and sensitive in a way where he knows he’s kind of fragile right now too. But he's also been teased so much over the past day that it feels like Jaskier only scratched the surface of his needs earlier in bed. Concern wins out for the moment, and he says, “Just wanna make sure you’re okay, sugar.” For the pet name, he can _feel_ what it does to him. Jaskier shivers in his arms and bears down on Eskel so goddamn good it forces a moan out of him. 

“I’m okay.” Jaskier kisses him again, much more sure of himself this time while picking his pace back up and shoving his tongue in Eskel’s mouth. This kiss doesn't so much break as Jaskier keeps pulling back enough only to breathe before kissing him again. And again. Until Eskel feels like he's a teenager making out in a dark basement—frantically and enthusiastically and feeling overpowered at every turn. 

With how he’s shoved back into the couch while Jaskier rides his cock harder and faster, Eskel is getting lightheaded. His hands are still on his boyfriend’s hips, but it's more for support than as a guide. No, Jaskier seems to be on a _mission_ now, one where he swallows the needy sounds Eskel finds himself making as he gets closer to coming. 

That’s when Jaskier stops moving completely and looks at him in the eyes with a hard gaze; Eskel _trembles_ , taking in a shaky breath as Jaskier’s hands push up his shirt enough to tug at both of his nipples. Eskel’s cock jumps, squirming and bucking his hips up, but Jaskier pinches the hard flesh and says, “I’m gonna take you upstairs and put you on your hands and knees, and I’m gonna fuck you and fill your pussy up so good you won't be able to think of anything else but me for _weeks_.”

It’s the way Jaskier doesn't hesitate in his words, doesn't hesitate in his movements that nearly makes Eskel cum on the spot. He feels helpless, and he feels seen, and he feels _loved_. He gets another kiss, slow and sensual, just like Eskel _craves_ ; something he can feel in his bones. Jaskier is warm and wet and perfect around him, rocking down against him so sweetly, pushing Eskel toward his limit. 

Gods, he feels like he's been on the edge for hours suddenly, though it is more accurate to say it's been over a day. Getting fingered through an orgasm earlier only ignited his need rather than extinguished the embers. If he were feeling more clever and poetic, Eskel might compare the feeling to the burning of a forge, but the drool dripping from the corner of his lip just so happens to hinder that creative energy. So he moans instead, holding Jaskier tighter to him, spine tingling.

“You can't cum.” Jaskier’s voice comes out in a quiet rush when they break for air, “Not yet, not now.” A command that has the intended effect of making Eskel shudder and burn hotter. “I’m gonna cum, and you're gonna sit there looking pretty for me.” 

His breath catches in his throat, very suddenly feeling his entire body tighten up. He knows immediately that Jaskier is making good on his threat of being mean, but Eskel won't last much longer if he keeps going like this. As it is, he tries to reach between them to touch Jaskier’s clit, but his wrists are grabbed and pinned to the top of the couch. “You can't touch me either, you’re just gonna have to be good, gorgeous boy.”

Jaskier is about to give him a complex, he's _sure_ of it. All he can do is breathe, and sit back against the couch trying his best not to cum, thinking of anything else but how good Jaskier looks riding him and how that makes his bits of praise all the more debilitating. Eskel’s whole body is tense, struggling for just a moment against Jaskier’s hold; his lover looks at him through his long eyelashes while squeezing his wrists in warning. 

It’s hard, staying good and quiet and still, especially when Jaskier grinds down on him and rolls his hips, the sound of tacky skin slapping together obscene for how wet he is. Jaskier’s dick is hard and rubbing against Eskel’s soft belly because of the angle, making him shiver in his lap. But Jaskier maintains eye contact the whole time—he lets go of Eskel’s wrists to brace himself on his shoulders, one hand slipping to the back of his neck seconds later to rub at the same sensitive spot he’s been focusing on all night.

“Have you ever put on lipstick?”

The question takes Eskel by surprise, voice sounding rough to even his own ears when he replies, “Haven't, no.”

“I think you’d look elegant.”

Eskel shouldn't feel such a shock of emotion at that, but it's a word choice that strikes him right through the chest, between his ribs. The deliberate nature of ‘elegant’, to imply an unironic, tasteful beauty. A dignified, polished, graceful sort of word that doesn't belong anywhere near Eskel, nor his damaged lips.

Eskel holds it close all the same.

When Jaskier cums, the prelude is his tiny, gasping little hiccuped breaths, Eskel’s name rolling off his lips while he clamps down around his cock. The only thing keeping Eskel from following is Jaskier’s fingernails digging into the back of his neck, the little pinpricks of pain grounding him. 

“I could sit here all night,” Jaskier says, panting from the exertion of so much movement. Eskel’s cock is squeezed teasingly, just tight enough to make him _whine_. “Could sit here just like this, telling you to keep still and be good for me. I wanna know how long I could keep you on edge before you can't help it and you cum anyway, bet you'd look beautiful.”

Words sealed with a kiss that Eskel quivers with. A full body subtle tremor that comes with a moan that doesn't sound like _anything_ that's ever come from his throat before. Something high and velvety, dragged from the top of his chest. He feels a melting block of ice—the solid parts of him are liquefying the longer Jaskier rocks his hips. 

“Gonna kill me Jask,” Eskel says finally, finding his voice. 

“Can't a bitch tease their boyfriend? You’re the one that told me you like a bit of denial,” and it's punctuated with Jaskier linking his fingers behind Eskel’s neck, leaning back as he changes up the angle and starts riding him again. “You could pick me up and toss me down on the floor and fuck me like an animal at any time, and I’d _love_ it. I’d ask you to break me in half, and I know you would, but I think you like having your leash tugged, pretty wolf. You like being helpless and overwhelmed,” Jaskier cuts himself off with a guttural moan, pressing his whole body closer to Eskel’s. “You’d let me use you whenever I want, huh?”

It’s true, and Eskel doesn't know what to do with that besides being good, just like Jaskier asked. He sits there with his arms still above his head from where Jaskier had pinned them and then let them go, whole body contracted so tensely as he focuses on not coming that he can't do much else. It’s a Herculean effort to keep his hips from moving too much, letting Jaskier take his pleasure again. But his heart is beating hard in his chest and Eskel can't get enough air, panting raggedly as he nearly feels himself boil over completely.

He wants to be good though, he wants to follow directions and he wants the praise and he wants and _wants_ —Jaskier cums again, but this time he immediately lifts up and off Eskel’s cock completely, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and commands, “Look at me.” Eskel’s eyes snap forward the exact second he feels Jaskier’s fingertip at the base of his cock, tracing the thick vein up. “Pretty little toy, all mine. I could lock your cock up and never let you cum again, and I bet you'd _beg_ me to do it.”

Whatever orgasm he might have had is utterly ruined by his attempt to keep it back, one single pathetic dribble of ejaculate leaking from his cock while Eskel takes a seething breath between his teeth, a wounded sound leaving his throat. He can feel tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, shaking desperately as Jaskier does damage control and tries to soothe him. Between his legs, Jaskier is rubbing at his quivering thighs, fingers delicate as he hushes him.

His cock is heavy and hard and _twitching_ , and if Eskel thought his balls ached before? Now they're _throbbing_ from neglect. His heart is full though, looking up dazedly at Jaskier and wondering how the fuck he’s seen so deeply into him to know _exactly_ how to fucking destroy him down to a molecular level.

“Here’s what I want you to do,” Jaskier says, getting up off his lap. “Take as much time as you need to relax, drink something, go out on the porch and smoke a bowl if you want,” he pauses to take Eskel’s face in his hands, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Then I want you to go up to the bedroom, close the door, take your clothes off, and kneel on the floor facing the bed while you wait for me. Can you do that?”

“Yes.” At this point? Eskel would do _anything_ Jaskier asked of him. 

He rubs Eskel’s cheek with his thumb, and in turns Eskel is unable to keep himself from trying to follow the comforting touch. “I don't want you to rush, I'm going to be a while anyway. So, only come up when you're ready. You’ve been so good for me, it'll make me so happy if you take a breather.”

Eskel has been _good_. Jaskier called him good, and the bliss of that realization feels incredible—Eskel chases that feeling in following Jaskier’s directions. If not that, then he does it because otherwise Eskel feels like he might break into pieces if he so much as gets more than the kiss Jaskier places on his lips as he gets up.

Taking a couple of minutes to chill out on the couch, he turns the TV off and sits in the silence of the house. His dick is tucked away after getting wiped off with the closest clean napkin, but even that takes a couple of minutes until he can get the strength. Getting a drink from the kitchen is an easy direction to follow, downing a glass of water and then sipping at another half for good measure; standing at the sink, the moonlight filtering into the kitchen catches the sunflower heads hanging over the side. They will face east in the morning, searching for their most beloved sunlight, and so, too, will Eskel. 

It probably isn't the best thing to keep his stash so close to the door, but the chances of someone coming all the way out here to bother him and search for drugs are slim enough to be _fine_. Besides, Jaskier made the suggestion because it’ll definitely calm him down, but Eskel has already told him he's got a medical card for his anxiety and PTSD. Meaning, he gets the _good_ shit legally, plus, he's a goddamned genius and already has a bowl packed. 

He puts his slippers on before he steps outside, grabbing his tin off the top of a short bookcase close to the door. It’s even colder now, especially with the drizzle picking up, but it feels good on his fevered skin. Sitting down on the porch swing, Eskel sighs out loud for the sake of it while he opens the tin to get out his pipe and lighter. And then he busies himself with taking a hit, holding it in and releasing slow. In the meantime, he pulls his headband down just enough to cover his ears from the cold so he doesn't have to suffer needlessly.

Eskel sits there swinging slowly until all he's got left is ash in his pipe, which gets tapped out over the railing of the porch when he gets up to stealth take a piss into the bushes. By now, Eskel is sufficiently chilled by the cold air, and he’s calmed down enough to where he might not pass away because of however Jaskier is going to do this. Naked and kneeling facing the bed is something he’s never been asked to do before. Really, Eskel can't imagine he's going to make a pretty picture for him.

And yet, that is exactly where Eskel finds himself after locking up with his head already swimming and making his way up the stairs eagerly. Whatever mood he was in is gone, replaced with an enthusiastic anticipation. His clothing comes off, draped over the side of the hamper for now, and he gets into place on the floor, facing the bed as intended—Eskel’s hands go palm-down on his thighs, straightening his spine out while he waits. 

Looking around the room, there’s not much different besides the candle still burning from earlier when he’d gotten out of the shower; the room smells deeply of a sweet vanilla that doesn’t assault his nose like candles usually do. There’s a towel laid on the bed, and one of the lamps is on, but otherwise the low light eases him and makes it easier to kneel on the floor. From behind two closed doors, Eskel can hear Jaskier complaining to himself in the bathroom. It’s cute, and it's also funny enough to make him sit there snickering.

“ _Hey_ , I can hear you laughing at me,” Jaskier shouts, and Eskel bites on the inside of his cheek to try and stop. “I’m trying to get cute.”

“I’m sure you’re gonna take my breath away no matter what,” he shouts back; it's not what he means to say, but it is what he _means_. The door to the bathroom finally opens after a couple more moments, the bedroom door opening soon after. Eskel can't see Jaskier in his position facing the bed, so he sits patiently and without anxiety.

“I could wear a cardboard box and make it sexy, you're right.” Eskel’s shoulders hunch up with his laughter, and Jaskier too hums in amusement. “Feeling good?”

“Yeah, I’m feelin’ good.” He is, that's the truth. Now that his high is starting to settle into his bones, the touch of delicate fingers to his shoulders makes him shiver, and Eskel has no shame for allowing himself to be vulnerable. 

“Good, I want you to enjoy yourself. So, if anything I do doesn't feel good or makes you uncomfortable, let me know.” They know each other’s words, that won't be an issue.

“I will,” Eskel mumbles, leaning back into Jaskier’s touch. 

“You're so good for me—you did exactly what I asked, thank you.” Praise accompanied by Jaskier kneading at his shoulders from behind, making Eskel deflate and sigh contentedly.

Before he can run his thoughts through a filter, Eskel asks, “Are you happy?”

For a heart stopping second, they're both quiet, but Jaskier drops gently to his knees behind Eskel, reaching around his chest instead to give him a hug from behind. “I’m very happy.” 

The first thing Eskel notices is the hard, squishy shaft pressing into his lower back, making him shiver with his anticipation, but that takes a back seat to how Jaskier is holding him close. Eskel also notices the feel of soft fabric pressing against his shoulders, and he leans back into his boyfriend contentedly. His head lolls back onto Jaskier’s shoulder, turning his face to his neck—Eskel can smell his perfume now, yet another scent that he can feel wrap around him, a deeper earthy base with a strange floral note on top.

Careful hands cup Eskel’s pecs, squishing them what can only be described as _tenderly_ , more of a massage than anything with Jaskier’s thumbs only barely brushing over his nipples. Humming a gratified note, it turns into a quiet moan when Jaskier grabs handfuls of his chest and rolls the flesh around in small circles. “So sweet for me, so sensitive.” He gets a kiss to his shoulder, and then another while Jaskier tugs on his nipples—not hard, just enough to make Eskel moan. “Pretty little sounds all for me.”

Eskel is _pretty_ , just for Jaskier. Every touch makes him feel impossibly good, his chest being squeezed and appreciated hitting home in a way he didn't realize he wanted. And then Jaskier is moving around him, coming around to Eskel’s front by shuffling on his knees. He looks beyond gorgeous, done up in makeup with a dark red on his lips; Eskel doesn't get a better look at him yet, caught by a deep kiss that almost feels _grateful_. It doesn't last nearly as long as Eskel wants, only until Jaskier grabs onto his headband that he completely forgot about, taking it off and tossing it toward the floor.

“I was gonna walk in here all sexy and tell you to suck my dick, but you made me weak in the knees just looking at you,” Jaskier says, grabbing one of Eskel’s hands and moving it to wrap around the dildo on his harness. “This is all for you, lovely boy.”

“Sorry for ruining your grand entrance, ‘can still suck you off if you want,” Eskel says, leaning forward to steal a kiss from Jaskier. His blood is rushing harder, going straight to his dick again and leaving him nearly dizzy for it. Shuddering when they part again, Eskel loosely jerks off the silicone between them, trying to think of the last time he got to suck a dick. 

“Maybe next time.” Jaskier ducks his head and presses kisses to his pecs, leaving lipstick marks in his wake. His nipples get the same treatment, and Eskel has a brief flashback to getting fucked in the hotel, how undone he'd been that time and he hadn't even known Jaskier yet. Now that he does? He might die. “You up for the nipple clamps again or is that gonna be too much?”

It’s _all_ too much, but Eskel doesn't care. “Yeah, I am.”

“Good,” Jaskier says, standing up and using Eskel’s shoulders as a support while his knees crack. “Remind me not to get on the floor with you again, oof.”

Snickering, Eskel looks up at him feeling like his heart is going to beat out of his chest. The lingerie he's wearing is a soft, dark green with black lace, complete with sheer black stockings. He looks _divine_ , and Eskel can't help following his every movement around the room. The nipple clamps are the same ones attached by a chain, little hearts dangling from the links. When they get attached, Eskel sighs, feeling absolutely wanton for how darkly Jaskier looks at him. His spine goes straight under the scrutiny, hands back in place on his thighs while he waits for instruction, for _praise_.

“Look at you, sitting so gracefully for me.” Jaskier walks back to the dresser and grabs something else that turns out to be a tube of lipstick. “Is it okay if I put this on you?”

He feels almost completely paralyzed the second the realization hits of where that lipstick is going, but he still nods and says, “Sure.” Jaskier grabs Eksel’s face gently so he can apply it onto his lips, smoothing it slow and precisely. When he's directed to rub his lips together, he does, even if the snarl where his skin is missing a chunk and the scarred bits feel weird. It's a reminder that his face is _twisted_ , that he cannot possibly be all these nice things Jaskier says he is. 

His heart constricts painfully at his own thoughts, looking away from Jaskier so he doesn't notice. But, he does notice. He always notices, doesn't he? 

“Look at me, Eskel.” 

Eskel can't deny him that.

Raising his eyes, Eskel’s heart skips a beat when Jaskier cups his scarred cheek, rubbing his thumb over the ugliest parts of himself. He feels loved and embraced and _treasured_ , and it is staggering. “I am so lucky that I found you, and every single second you want to spend with me makes me so happy I don't know how to handle it. And I am so scared of ruining it because I feel like I don't deserve you. But I want you to know that from the bottom of my gay little heart, I genuinely think every part of you is beautiful, please don't doubt that.”

How can he doubt it now? When it feels like he is about to drown in his infatuation—but it's more than that, really, it's more than a simple intense onset of captivation that deteriorates quickly. This is more than a fascination in his outward ruggedness that withers at the first sign of Eskel being more than a gruff, mountain of a man. 

“Stand up and look at yourself in the mirror with me.” It’s not a command, but Eskel treats it like one, getting onto his feet and letting Jaskier direct him to the mirror on his dresser. Usually he doesn’t even look at the damned thing on a normal day, but since the mirror is attached to the dresser, if he takes it down, it’ll expose the hole in his wall he’s been too lazy to fix. Plus, it’s hard to find mirrors that actually accommodate his height, so, it stays. 

Actually looking at himself though, Eskel almost doesn’t recognize his reflection. The lipstick stands out starkly against his skin, the same darker red that Jaskier is wearing. His hair is framing his face, longer than usual and looking softer than he remembers; it’s probably not, because one use of Jaskier’s shampoo and conditioner earlier in the shower hasn’t fixed his hair. But he’s flushed and breathing more labored the longer he looks at himself with Jaskier on his tip-toes behind him, resting his chin on Eskel’s shoulder and his arms around him.

“If you hate it, we can take it off.”

That’s the thing though… Eskel doesn’t hate it. He can see what Jaskier sees in it, even if his own sense of self-appreciation is built on a shaky foundation. A completely different person is staring at him in the mirror, and Eskel kind of likes it. “No, it can stay on.” And suddenly, he can’t stop staring at himself, at the lipstick marks Jaskier left on his skin contrasting with his body hair, the desperate look in his eyes. He can see it when Jaskier’s fingers slowly grab the chain, and he doesn’t even try to hold back the rush of breath leaving his lungs; his cock visibly jumps, which makes Eskel groan again as the chain is tugged harder.

Jaskier turns Eskel’s head with little warning, pulling him into a kiss that gets messy quick from the angle. Not enough to destroy the application of lipstick, but it’s smeared now when Eskel takes a peek at the mirror again. “You wanna get on the bed for me darling?” Jaskier asks with another kiss placed to his neck, letting go of the chain so he can play with the dangling hearts. “Hands and knees, sweetheart. Eyes front.”

It’s obvious that he’s meant to be over the towel so he doesn’t cum on the comforter, so that’s where he kneels, facing Jaskier who is still standing in front of the mirror; it makes him come to the unfortunate realization that he’ll be able to see himself the whole time, but Eskel is now too relaxed to care. Seeing Jaskier standing there with his cock standing hard and thick, it makes Eskel even hotter, knowing he’ll be fucked with that. As thick as a can of soda at the shaft, and swelling at the base. There’s a tube coming from the back of it that hangs down Jaskier’s leg, but he doesn’t even have a voice to ask what it’s for.

Eskel has never felt so needy in his life as he does when Jaskier walks around the bed and disappears behind him. There’s a few excruciating seconds where Eskel fights turning his head, but he hears the pop of the cap of the lube, and Jaskier’s goopy, sticky favorite drips down onto his hole, dripping down to his balls. Two fingers swipe up the mess, and there’s no tentative preamble to Jaskier’s fingers entering him. 

The touch is like _fire_ , his body too hot and too sensitive and already so overwhelmed by all of the care he’s gotten today. His high helps him to be shameless in pushing back against Jaskier’s fingers, moaning at the feel of being stretched. Eskel’s head drops to his arms, crossed on the bed. The pressure is everything he needs, but it’s not _nearly_ enough. After spending so long being teased, he wants to get fucked more than anything. He wants whatever Jaskier will give him. 

A third finger joins the other two, and Eskel can’t help arching his back and moaning when his fingers move deeper. Eskel already feels weak all over, his cock is hard, balls hanging heavy between his legs, and his ass isn’t nearly full enough. His voice is raspy when he speaks up, “I’m ready.”

“You’re not,” Jaskier says, stretching him some more and making Eskel keen when his fingers graze his prostate. “I promise I’m not trying to tease you,” contradictory words considering Jasker’s lips press to the back of Eskel’s thigh, adding another finger finally. “Wanna make sure you’re nice and open for me so I don’t hurt you.”

The wait is unbearable, but Eskel trusts Jaskier to know what he’s talking about. And by the time Jasker gets on the bed for real behind him and lines the slick head of his dick up, Eskel is _shaking_ for it. At the very least, he’s close enough to the top of the bed to grab the biggest pillow he can so he can prop it under his torso, making it easier to keep himself up while he holds onto it.

“Look up,” and that is a quiet command from Jaskier; Eskel’s eyes meet Jaskier’s in the mirror just as he feels him start to push in. Trying to keep relaxed while Jaskier’s cock sinks into him is tough, but his boyfriend goes slow enough that once he’s bottomed out at the flared base, Eskel can get comfortable with the girth when he rocks his hips back into it. The lube is slippery enough that it helps too, and there’s no pain left when Jaskier starts tentatively fucking him. 

Eskel has to break their eye contact as Jaskier really starts to move, rolling his hips into every thrust and filling him up _just_ right. It’s too much, and it’s not enough, and he feels like he’s floating when his high starts to really crescendo. Spreading his legs more, Eskel drops down enough to change the angle Jaskier is fucking him at, holding back on what would have been a loud moan.

Jaskier hums quietly and tilts his thrusts down, and Eskel bites on his lip to keep the sound he would have made in. His lover leans down and kisses Eskel’s back, up his spine and to his shoulder, pressing against his skin with the delicate fabric of his lingerie. “Why are you holding yourself back? I wanna hear how much you’re enjoying yourself.”

It’s accompanied by a sharp thrust, hitting just the perfect spot inside him to make Eskel shudder, make his cock _drip_ , but his throat still won’t let out the sounds his body wants to make. There is a lingering shame setting in for his deep voice, something that is decidedly _not_ soft and attractive; his voice is the antithesis of being ‘beautiful’. At least, Eskel has always thought that about himself. It’s what he’s been told before by other people in the past.

“Come on, gorgeous, lemme hear you moan for me, you sound so pretty,” Jaskier’s voice is labored from his pace, hard enough where Eskel can hear the lewd slapping of skin. “It’s just us, you’re so good for me, you’re _perfect_ ,” His legs start slipping, and Jaskier hikes him up with his hands firmly on Eskel’s hips. Jaskier’s fingers slip down, pressing into the soft flesh of Eskel’s tummy, and he nearly cums when the knot on the dildo starts pushing deeper on every couple of thrusts.

Eskel makes a strangled sound, pushing out a hiss through his teeth—he’s so _close_ , all he needs is a hand on his cock and he’ll get there. Jaskier’s hand catches him by the wrist though, halfway down to Eskel’s attempt to jerk himself off. “No, you haven’t earned it baby.” The feel of slick cum leaking into his ass makes his dick jump uselessly between his legs, can feel himself twitching and leaking. “This is what you do to me, pretty boy.” 

Jaskier pushes Eskel’s hips down so he’s just barely on his knees, spreading him wider with the angle change and holding him down at the tops of Eskel’s thighs. It also makes Jaskier’s cock pull most of the way out, Eskel pushing back with a _whine_. “J- _Jas_ ,” is all he can manage, the bucking of his hips backward to try and get more contact, he wants _everything_. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Jaskier says, pulling his cock out at the same time his thumb swipes through the sticky dribble of cum lube leaking from the head of the dildo and down onto Eskel’s ass. “You make me so fuckin’ wet for you.”

The lube leaking down to his balls is swiped up by Jaskier with two fingers that do their best to push the lube into his stretched hole—his whole body is throbbing, strung tight. Uncomfortably sweaty. The slickness between his thighs is _obscene_ , feels so fucking good to have even that little bit of pressure. Left gaping and _wet_ by the fingers that leave him, Eskel _gets_ it.

“Your pussy’s soaked, gorgeous boy, all for me. You wanna cum?”

Jaskier’s cock pushes back in slowly, making Eskel moan a deep, drawn out note.

“Just like that, I wanna hear you cum for me,” Jaskier sounds smitten, dropping a filthy kiss to the back of Eskel’s neck, at the nape. But his head is tugged up by his other hand taking hold of his hair, making him look at himself in the mirror. “You look so pretty.”

His lover’s hips start back up, fucking him hard and fast, going deeper, and in turn, Eskel stops bothering to keep himself reigned in. Moaning again, this one is louder, but the next one has _more_ behind it. Jaskier picks up speed, and it’s all Eskel can do to push his hips back to meet his, moaning broken little sounds while the knot stretches him. Eskel audaciously watches himself in the mirror, catching Jaskier’s eyes and feeling _venerated_.

“Gonna cum inside you, fill you up and breed you like a bitch in heat, mama wolf.” Jaskier groans a deep, shuddering note, hips stuttering in their motions while Eskel feels cum flood into his pussy—the sudden _pop_ Eskel feels inside of him while he’s thinking that makes him a fucking _goner_. 

He boils over completely, crying out a sound that strains his throat, rutting against the pillow he’s holding while Jaskier massages the sensitive skin just below Eskel’s hole. His orgasm slams into him, a feeling that spreads out into every nerve and feels _blinding_. Eskel is already oversensitive and being pushed toward tears from how incredible the thickness of Jaskier’s knot fills him up. Jaskier continues to rock his hips into Eskel’s that makes him want to howl, but it’s the thumb running around the rim of his ass stretched over the dildo that makes him do it.

“So good for me, perfect,” mumbled right next to Eskel’s ear, Jaskier pressing his lips to the shell of it.

Shivering and boneless, Eskel is raw and exposed with the knot pressed all the way inside. Like this, Eskel doesn't have the energy to keep himself quiet, trembling through a deep, loud moan. His hips push backward and then grind down on their own toward the bed, his body unsure which contact will relieve the ache. Jaskier’s hand very suddenly grabs onto his cock, pointing it down instead of keeping it trapped between the pillow and his stomach. 

The knot pops free and Eskel _wails_ , clenching around nothing and trying to fuck Jaskier’s hand; a firm squeeze around the base stops that immediately, and in turn he feels like he's going to tear the pillow in his arms to shreds by how tight he's holding onto it. Heaving for breath, Eskel does his best to try and keep still, but his whole body is throbbing with need still, his pleasure taken to such a tremendous height that he cannot believe that it’s ever been possible to feel _this_ good. 

Eskel is abruptly turned over; Jaskier directs him to lift himself and shift so that he’s laying on his back with his hips propped up on the pillow, feeling _luxurious_ for it. Looking up at Jaskier finally, he can see just how dark the look in his eyes is—Eskel imagines that he looks like a mess right now, his hole gaping and leaking cum, but he also feels properly pampered. The feeling like he’s being spoiled is excessive and exhilarating, yet Eskel _still_ tries to find a reason to be embarrassed while that gaze lingers over him. 

Jaskier doesn’t give him a chance to concoct humiliation out of thin air, because he leans down and gives Eskel a kiss he can feel down to his toes and deep in his bones. His cock is lined up again, the tip pushing into the lube mess and then slowly back inside. This time, Eskel doesn’t bother constricting his throat, moaning a shaking little sound against Jaskier’s mouth while his thighs get spread and pushed toward the bed. One hand wanders away, Eskel only noticing when the nipple clamps get tugged, catching him off guard and ripping a sob from his throat. 

“You’re so beautiful,” spoken against Eskel’s cheek, a kiss pressed against his scars. “I want you like this all the time, spread out and gorgeous for me.”

With nothing to hold onto now, Eskel grabs for Jaskier’s hips, lifting his own up and trying to get more contact. He feels _empty_ without the knot, the shaft before it not big enough to satisfy him right now. For some reason, his mind wanders to how they met, how within half an hour Eskel had fisted Jaskier and gotten him to squirt—a guilty envy is what he feels, wondering what it’s like to gush like that, wanting it for himself. 

Maybe that’s the feeling that’s building from deep within, melting from the inside out from how hot he is, how tightly he’s been wound, absolutely desperate to cum again. His moaning is constant, higher pitched and choppy for how hard he’s breathing. Jaskier rubs his thumb deep at the base of Eskel’s cock, pushing against his ass with the knot again. “Relax for me lovely.”

The chain is tugged again, jingling in direct compliment to the pain in his nipples firing up all of his nerves. But he forces himself to relax, the knot popping back in and pressing directly against his prostate—Eskel’s vision goes blurry, closing his eyes against the swell of hot tears that leak down his cheeks. His body seizes up and then the tension _breaks_. His cock jumps, cum painting his stomach in hard bursts while his mind goes blank. Jaskier jerks him off through every last gooey spurt, praise falling on muffled ears.

With his eyes closed, slumped in the middle of his mattress, he may as well be laying in the middle of a field on an early summer night. Sweaty and content, staring up at the stars with a gentle breeze sweeping over his skin. Safe and warm, no worries besides the blades of tall grass caressing his bare thighs. A warm body settles next to him, their arm wrapping around him while he cools off. Fingers lightly comb through his hair like the wind might, and when he blinks, the candle burning on the bureau almost looks like a campfire.

Awareness is slower to come to him than usual, but Eskel enjoys the floating feeling and the soft touches that accompany it. But when he finally opens his eyes and groans quietly, Jaskier chuckles next to him and says, “Welcome back.”

“Did I die?” Eskel asks, a deep, satisfied fatigue setting in, feeling utterly ravished.

“You’re at the gates, and I’m the sexy gatekeeper that wants to make you my sexy little angel. I think— _no_ , I can do better than that.” Jaskier hums to himself and follows up after a few seconds with, “I’m a sexy _god_ , one of indulgence and fertility, and you’re my sexy little sacrifice.”

Jaskier already has his devotion at this point. “I feel thoroughly sacrificed,” Eskel says, arching his back and feeling it crack, relieving the discomfort of laying down like this. “Dunno if I’m gonna be able to move.”

“We still have a bath to take if you wanna take it,” Jaskier says, squeezing him lightly around the waist. “If you don’t, then we’ll take one in the morning.”

“As long as you give me a couple of minutes to get the energy.” Right now? Eskel doesn’t have usable legs. He lowers them from their still mostly spread state, grunting at how his knees crack from the movement. “When I said you’re gonna kill me, it wasn’t a suggestion.”

“And I wasn’t trying to,” Jaskier laughs out into Eskel’s shoulder. “Feeling good?”

“Yeah, I’m feelin’ good,” Eskel says back, breathing deep and sighing the breath out. 

Laying in silence for a while, Eskel ends up closing his eyes again, just breathing. The fact that he feels safe enough with Jaskier to be vulnerable like this and that his lover actively wants him to be able to relax like this? It means so much more than Eskel can even say. 

Getting up is a challenge, enough that he gives up for a minute and watches Jaskier get up first, flitting about the room so he can take the harness off and go clean the dick off before it becomes impossible to do so once the lube dries inside the cumtube. That’s something Jaskier explains to him on the way out, showing him the special needleless wide-injector syringes he’d filled with the lube before they started tonight. The candle gets blown out before Jaskier retreats back to the bathroom, and Eskel is left to himself to clean himself off with the already soiled towel. 

Joining Jaskier in the bathroom, the tub is already running with hot water, two strangely shaped little pucks in his hand. On further inspection, one of them is a cauldron, and the other is a book with an eye in the center of it. Both are painted colorfully, and Jaskier holds one out in each hand and says, “Choose one.”

Eskel picks the cauldron, unwrapping it as directed and tossing the covering in the trash. “Never done one of these before either, I just drop it in?”

“Yeah, you can just drop it in. But if you want, you can also put it in your palm and run it under the faucet first, it’s fun,” Jaskier says, half distracted and wiping his face down with a makeup removing wipe while he looks in the mirror.

Sitting on the edge of the tub, Eskel does just that, putting his hand under the hot water and letting the bomb fizz in his hand before he ends up dropping it in the tub to let it dissolve properly. Where he’s sitting though, Jaskier comes at him next with the makeup remover wipe—he’d caught his reflection in the mirror when he came in, the lipstick smeared around his lips looking ridiculous on him. But, here and now, Eskel can appreciate Jaskier taking the time to wipe it off for him, an intimate little act that makes him feel extra gooey. 

“Okay big boy, where you sitting? Front or back?” Jaskier asks him while gesturing to the tub, and for a second, Eskel isn’t sure if he can choose. Both sound appealing, but, he’s feeling especially clingy right now. 

“I’ll sit in back.”

And that’s exactly where he ends up after they take another moment to clean themselves up. Eskel gets in the tub first while the water is still running, groaning at the heat doing wonders on his aching body. The water though, it swirls around with sparkles, darkly colored enough to mostly hide his legs under the surface. 

Jaskier leaves the room before coming back with a different candle to light, turning the overhead light off and keeping the door closed. The water is shut off, and Jaskier makes sure Eskel is scooted enough back so they can fit in together comfortably. It’s a little snug, and the water threatens to go over while they’re adjusting, but relaxing back together with Jaskier laying against his chest? Eskel couldn’t be happier. 

Draping his arms around his boyfriend, Eskel sits back with his head pressed to the tile. “You’re spoiling me,” he says, rubbing a hand over Jaskier’s side.

“Because you deserve it.”

For once, Eskel agrees. Maybe he does.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr @ [jennyloggins](https://jennyloggins.tumblr.com/) and on twitter at [slimejen](https://twitter.com/slimejen). feel free to come talk or say hi or yell at me or whatever!!!!!!!!!!!!!


End file.
